


Oh, Fucking Hell

by Bunshin, InhumaneActivities (Bunshin)



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Tom, M/M, Smut, Top Tord, Wet Dream, look - Freeform, plus some plot, this whole thing is gonna be them fucking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-05-13 18:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14754020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunshin/pseuds/Bunshin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunshin/pseuds/InhumaneActivities
Summary: Look, I’m not saying Tom’s totally gay for Tord. I’m just saying he wants Tord to fuck him. But Tom’s not gay. Nope.





	1. a/n

I decided that I’d make a list(a list of all the sluts I’ve missed).I was going to make this ten chapters but I got way more than ten prompts. If you think you have a good smut prompt, comment and I’ll probably add it. I’ll cross it off when I’ve done it. Have fun.

Bdsm

Pet play

~~Wet dream~~

Jacking off partner under table

Public sex

Vibrators

Gangbang

Gentle sex

Riding

Orgasm denial

Tentacle

Dildo

~~Wall fucking~~

~~First time~~

Whipping

Dick cage

Maid dress up

Choking

Blowjob

Birthday sex

Hate sex

~~Catching bottom fingering themselves to top’s name~~

Drunk sex

Sex game(first one to cum loses)

Blindfolds

Shower sex

Daddy kink

Nothing but stockings

Collar

Getting caught

Having to explain themselves

Aftercare

Punishment

Nightclub

Dry humping

Body worship

~~Gag balls~~

Sex goes wrong

Comfort sex

Humiliation kink

Silly sex

Angry christmas sex

Size kink

Doggy style

That’s all for now. 


	2. Gross

It was midnight, the moon shining brightly. Tom was sitting on the couch, the television playing. His mouth felt overly dry, the smell of popcorn in the air as he took a handful. He looked up when the lock to the front door clicked, the door opening. Tord came waltzing through it, using his foot to close it as he took off his long, black coat. Tord spared a glance at Tom, seemingly eying him up threateningly, causing Tom to return his gaze to the television. He could feel Tord’s stare lingering on him longer, the Brit’s cheeks slightly reddening.

The air was heavy as Tord placed his keys on the kitchen counter before walking toward the living room. The two rooms were pretty much one, minus the fact one was carpet and the other was tile. Tom did his best to ignore the Norwegian as he plopped on the couch, on the right side of Tom, still silent. They exchanged no words, just watched the television. Well, Tom could only stand to do that for a bit. He gently moved his head to look at Tord. Thank god for his black eyes, because with out them, it would be obvious he was staring. So, he was lucky to have them.

Tord was leaning back into the couch, hand draping over the back of the sofa, his fingers a little too close to Tom’s shoulder. His legs were spread lazily, his hair a mess. In short, he looked hot— _terrible_. Yeah, terrible. That’s what Tom meant.

He froze when Tord moved his head to return Tom’s gaze. His face began to heat up further, a smug grin snaking up Tord’s face when he saw it. Tom wanted to look away, to end the moment as soon as he could, but there was something in the Norwegian’s eyes that were just... too enticing.

He was jerked out of it when Tord began to move his hand, placing it gently on Tom’s arm. He moved in closer, their bodies only inches apart. How did it even come to this? Tord was barely touching him but it was making his skin prickle. He continued to move his arm, putting it around Tom’s neck. His eyes widened, keeping his gaze away from Tord. He wasn’t sure if he liked or disliked where this was going. 

“Uhm— Tord?” Tom’s voice was quiet, the Norwegian sliding his arm down to his waist.

“Hmm?” Tord hummed in response, shifting both of them so they were facing each other, placing his other hand on Tom’s waist as well.

“Is this going where I think it’s going?” Tord began to lean in, Tom wrapping his arms around Tord’s neck. 

“Hopefully.”

They were pressing their lips together. It was soft. Tom had never expected Tord to be such a calm kisser. The Norwegian’s lips were smooth in comparison to Tom’s rough ones. If he had known this was coming, he would’ve put on chapstick. He sighed softly when he felt Tord’s tongue peeking at the edge of his lips, opening his mouth in acceptance. The couch groaned as Tord moved his hands to Tom’s thighs, lifting him and placing him in Tord’s lap, all while letting his tongue become acquainted with Tom’s mouth. He would admit that he wasn’t a good kisser, so he was just following Tord’s lead.

When Tord finally broke the kiss off, he was wiping his mouth while Tom sat there and panted. Tord’s hands were grasping at his shirt, Tom lifting his arms as Tord pulled it off. Tord tossed it to the side and began to run his hands up and down Tom’s body. He leaned forward and began to softly kiss Tom’s neck. They were tender, gentle. He let out a sigh that quickly turned into a yelp when Tord bit down. His teeth stayed clamped there before sucking it softly, leaving a mark.

“What was that for?” Tom hissed, hands gripping Tord’s shirt.

“You thought I’d let you go with nothing?” Tord replied with a purr, dragging his nails gently across Tom’s back. “I’m gonna make you ache, make you unable to walk, to sit, I’ll cover you with marks so everyone knows _you’re_ _mine_.”

That shouldn’t have gone straight to his groin, but it did. He let out a whimper when Tord bit down again. He was going to be covered in hickeys, wasn’t he? Still biting down in various places on Tom’s neck, Tord moved his hands toward Tom’s nipples.

“No.” Tom was rushing to grip Tord’s wrists, pushing them back.

“No?” Tord repeated, moving so they were staring at each other.

“It’s embarrassing,” Tom explained, only to grunt when Tord pushed him down, his back pressed against the couch.

Tord leaned down, mouth right next to Tom’s ear. “Who are you to deny me?” He began to grind down on Tom’s crotch, his hands grasping Tom’s wrists and pinning them.

“Tord—“ Tom gasped desperately, trying to move his arms. Tord was humming, staring down at his flustered piece of work. Tom already had tears picking at his eyes, face scrunched up in frustration.

“Yes, baby?” Tord replied seductively, his voice smooth. He stilled as he waited for Tom’s answer. 

He let out a huff. “Can we please hurry up? I don’t like all this teasing.” Tord scoffed slightly, but nodded. He removed himself from Tom, fingers on his waistband. “Wait.” 

Tord glanced up, scowling in annoyance. “What now?”

Tom responded with a glare. “There is no way in hell I’m going to be naked when you’re fully dressed.” One of Tord’s eye twitched. He grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled it over his head,

“Is this better?” Tord asked, watching as Tom nodded in response. He continued to pull Tom’s pants off, along with his boxers, his face returning to a smug look. Tom’s cheeks became even _more_ red, if that was possible, as Tord hungrily swept his gaze across Tom’s bare body.

“Couldn’t you hurry up?” Tom whined, one hand dangling off the couch and the other grasping the cushions.

Tord looked up, shoving three fingers toward Tom’s face. “You, suck,” he ordered, glaring impatiently. Reluctantly, Tom opened his mouth and let Tord shove them inside. 

Fuck. 

Tord’s fingers were obscenely long, enough to make Tom gag slightly. God, this was embarrassing. He sucked and licked the fingers, eyes closed so he wouldn’t have to see Tord’s expression. He knew that the fingers would have to be coated with spit, so he kept working on them. Suddenly, Tord removed his fingers.

“Move your legs,” Tord instructed. Tom nodded, eyes opening as he dragged one leg so it was on the edge of the couch, his knee sticking up in the air, his other hiking up Tord’s shoulder. The Norwegian had a smug smirk on his face, placing his fingers on Tom’s hole. He slowly pressed one digit inside, Tom whimpering and melting immediately. He continued to dig the finger further. God, it felt so weird. Not terrible, but not good. He added another finger, gently scissoring Tom. Tom placed and arm over his eyes, trying to hide as much of his face as he could. Tord added yet another finger, spreading Tom wider than he expected. The fingers were burrowing deep, doing a fantastic job stirring up his insides. “How’re you feeling baby?” Tord’s voice was gentle, sweet. He could feel himself relax a little bit.

“I’m... I’m okay. Can we just hurry up?” Tom repeated, his voice cracking lightly as he moved his arm way from his eyes. Tord nodded and removed his fingers, hastily pulling down his pants and boxers. Tom felt his eyes widen.

Tord was huge.

Like, genuinely huge. On the cusp of, like, at _least_ seven inches. 

He did have to admit, though. The size was enough for him to bite his lip in anticipation, letting out a deep breath. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

Tord snickered. “You like what you see?” he asked flirtatiously. Tom didn’t answer, just spread his legs wider and glared at Tord.

“Are you gonna fuck me or what?” Tord chuckled, pressing the tip of his cock into Tom. He placed his hands on Tom’s inner thighs,moving them even further. Tom winced slightly, the ache of being stretched to far already showing.

The first thrust inside had Tom biting his finger, his other hand grasping Tord’s shoulder. Every inch spread him further than he thought possible, the pain making him whimper.

“T-Tord— please, hold on—“ Tom was cut off when Tord wrapped his hands around Tom’s neck. His grip was getting tighter and tighter, and holy shit, Tom couldn’t breathe. That, mixed with the pain of being spread open, forced the tears in his eyes to finally fall. He was clawing at Tord’s arms now, anything to get them away from his throat. When Tord was fully inside of him, he let go, finally allowing Tom to breathe. He was taking deep, raspy breaths, trying to ignore the fact that being choked was actually fucking hot. His raspy breathing and Tord’s menacing expression was sending shocks straight to his groin.

“See, baby?” Tord purred, “It’s a perfect fit.” Tom glared at him. He felt so full already, and by the looks of it, Tord was only getting started. His second thrust has Tom gasping, the pace slow. Nervously, he placed a hand over his mouth to prevent any more noises to escape him.

Hey, being fucked by your enemy is one thing; enjoying it is a whole other thing.

Tord began to quicken his pace, eyes narrowing. Using one of his hands, he removed Tom’s hand away from his mouth. Tom glared at him, the Norwegian releasing his hand, only to grab both of his arms by their wrists.

“Dick,” Tom hissed angrily, trying to escape from Tord’s hold. 

“You love it.” Tord began to shift every thrust, trying to find the spot that would make Tom melt. Tom didn’t answer the way he wanted, but he was starting to lose control of his voice. Tord began to put more force into his thrusts, and there we go— the dam broke. Tom whimpered, moaned, and grunted with every thrust. Tord continued to shift, only to stop when Tom let out a loud moan.

“Tord, fuck—“ Tom cursed desperately, trying to break free from Tord’s grip.

“Oh, Thomas,” Tord cooed in response, “did I find the right spot?” Tom only replied with a lewd moan, bucking his hips.

Tom was aching for release. He was being spread open and every time Tord’s cock brushed past his prostate, his muscles would tense and his cock would twitch pathetically as he was getting closer to an orgasm. “Tord, please,” he moaned, still struggling in Tord’s grip. “Please, I’m so close.”

By the look on Tord’s face, he was close as well. He let go of Tom’s wrists, grabbing his waist instead, allowing him to go deeper than Tom would’ve liked. He felt so full and god, he was so fucking close. Tord moved one hand and began to fondle his dick. Tom came right then and there, Tord burying deep inside of Tom and coming as well, Tom shutting his eyes tightly.

When he opened them, Tord wasn’t on him. He wasn’t even on the couch. Nope, he was in his own room.

 Oh, god.

He felt sticky. Using his arms to hold him up, he scrunched up his nose.

Did he seriously just have a wet dream about his enemy? 

Gross.


	3. Quite The show

Now, today was a a pretty average day for Tord. He had breakfast with Edd, Tom, and Matt, then two of those left to help out some of their friends. That left Tom and Tord home alone together.

Speaking of Tom, the Brit had been avoiding him for a few of days. He had an idea why, but it was starting to get less and less amusing each day. He did, however, catch Tom staring at him sometimes. Tom would either snap his head away or pretend he was staring at something else. If Tord touched him, he would start blushing and leave. That gave Tord a vague idea of what was happening.

But, he wasn’t going to instigate anything unless he got proof that Tom was into him. He may be an asshole, but he wasn’t gonna try and rape someone. 

Tord was casually walking down the hallway, towards the kitchen. His room was next to Tom’s, the other two having their rooms in the next hallway. He was about to pass Tom’s room when,

“Shit!”

Tord dropped his phone, hands tumbling to grab it before it hit the floor. What he had just heard was definitely a moan. He gently took a few steps forward, Tom’s door open a few inches.

The view was perfect.

He could see Tom’s bed perfectly, and guess who was on the bed?

Ah, yes, a naked Tom. His eyes were shut, his face red. One hand was jacking himself off, his other hand positioned below his ass. He was sinking down onto his fingers, a shaky moan escaping his throat.

Tord never would've guessed Tom was a bottom.

His own hand slid inside his sweatpants, hand gripping his soft cock. His eyes were trained on Tom’s expression, rubbing himself slowly. Tom was a gasping mess, tears pricking at his eyes. Tord began to speed up, a grin on his face. So what? He was getting off to his enemy fingering themselves. 

He was getting ready to leave and just jack off in his own room, legs already moving, but—

“Tord, fuck!”

That was enough for Tord to stop moving. For a moment, he thought he was caught, but he returned his gaze to Tom. The Brit still had his eyes closed, no hint of anger. That was enough for Tord to raise an eyebrow.

“Tord, please,” Tom whined, shifting so his legs were spread wider. He was on his knees, hand squeezing his cock.

Interesting.

Tom was moaning and gasping, his pace speeding up. Every moan was accompanied with Tord’s name, the Norwegian already close. He was watching the way Tom rocked back into his fingers, the way he was shivering lightly. He let out a small groan himself, trying to muffle the sound with his hand. He really didn’t want to be caught.

Tom came with a shout. He was panting heavily as he pulled his fingers out, collapsing on his bed.

Tom may have finished, but Tord hadn’t.

He began to rush back to his own room. Not only did he need to finish jacking off, but he had to make a plan, because he had already decided.

He was gonna make Tom his little bitch.


	4. Totally Not A Virgin

“Hey, Tom, Tord!” Edd called from the kitchen. Tord perked up, glancing at the hallway. Edd emerged a moment later, Matt trailing behind him. “Matt and I are gonna go to the park. You guys wanna come?”

He peered at Tom. If Tom wasn’t going, neither was he. He’d finally get his damn chance.

“Nah, I’ve got shit to do,” the Brit answered, hand on the remote.

“You mean you’re gonna sit on the couch the whole time they’re gone and watch television?” Tom glared at him and slammed his foot into Tord’s leg. The Norwegian rolled his eyes. “I’m not going, either.”

Edd raised an eyebrow. Usually Tord would do whatever it takes to get away from Tom. “Alright. Have fun doing... whatever.” They turned to leave. “We’re probably going out to dinner as well, so we may be a long time.”

“‘Kay,” Tom called over his shoulder, waving them off.

“See you guys!” Matt called. Then, the front door opened and closed.

“So, did you actually have something to do today or did you just not want to go?” Tord asked, poking Tom’s arm.

Tom slapped him away. “I actually have something to do, you fucking commie. What about you? Why’d you stay?”

Tord let his mouth spread into a wide, smug grin. “I’ve got something to do as well, Jehovah’s Witness.”

Tom glanced at him, a light pink dusting across his face when he realized Tord was staring at him. “Lame.” He placed the remote on the coffee table, standing. Tord stood after Tom passed him, the Brit probably heading to his room.

Tom wouldn’t make it.

Tord rushed forward and pushed the Brit against the wall, forcing his arms against his back. Tom squeaked in surprise at the action, already beginning to struggle.

“Hey, what the hell? Let me the fuck go!” Tom spat angrily, only to hiss in pain when Tord squeezed his arm.

“Calm down.”

“How am I supposed to do that when—“

Tom cut himself off when Tord began to press soft kisses on his neck.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Tom’s voice didn’t have any bite to it, becoming perfectly still.

“What?” Still grasping Tom’s arms with one hand, he placed the other on the hem of Tom’s sweatshirt. “Do you _not_ want this?”

“Uhm, I don’t- I- _what_?” he stuttered, only to let out a soft gasp when began to Tord run his hand up and down Tom’s side.

“You’re pretty loud when you finger yourself.” Tom’s breathing ceased immediately.

“You... heard that?”

Tord snickered, letting go of Tom and forcing him to turn around. The Brit’s face was more red than Tord’s hoodie. “It was a fun show to watch.”

Tom’s eyes widened and he let out an embarrassed “fuck”, turning his head away from Tord. He shook his head, the grin never leaving his face as he began to pull Tom’s sweatshirt off. When he was met with no resistance, he tossed it to the side.

“So, how long?” Tord asked as he reached his hands under Tom’s shirt.

“W-what?”

Tord brushed his hands against Tom’s nipples. “How long have you wanted me?”

Tom cleared his throat, still refusing to look at Tord. “This is too fucking weird.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I want an answer.” He moved his hand down to Tom’s crotch, rubbing it gently through the fabric.

“You’ll get an answer over my cold, dead body,” Tom hissed, eyes narrowing. His breathing was ragged, clutching Tord’s sweatshirt.

“You’re so difficult.” He continued to place kisses on Tom’s neck and shoulders, occasionally stopping to suck and leave a hickey. One hand was rubbing Tom, the other was sliding against Tom’s thigh.

“Tord— come on— we’re not doing this out in the living room.” He began to push Tord away.

Tord raised an eyebrow. “Thomas. Look at me.”

“No.”

Tord let out an irritated sigh, removing his hand from Tom’s crotch and using it to grab Tom’s chin, turning his head so he was facing him.

“Why can’t we do this right here?”

Tom narrowed his eyes, glaring at Tord. “Because if Edd and Matt walk through the door, this will be the first thing they see.”

“They said they’d be gone for awhile. Plus, knowing those two, they might not be back until midnight or something.”

“But this is the living room! This place will haunt me forever if we don’t move somewhere else!”

“So, you’ll be haunted by the memory of me fucking you senseless in this very room?”

Tom’s glare disappeared, his eyes widening. “I, uh- I th- dude, just shut the fuck up!” he stuttered, tearing his head away from Tord’s grasp. Tord couldn’t help but laugh, watching as Tom scrunched his shoulders up and shrunk down.

He leaned down so his mouth was next to Tom’s ear. “You’re such a submissive little bitch.” Tom squeaked, his hands flying up to Tord’s chest. The Norwegian began to unbutton and unzip Tom’s jeans, hastily shoving them and his boxers off. His hand cupped Tom, dragging his thumb across the tip, drinking in every gasp and moan he earned.

“T-Tord. Enough.”

The Norwegian stopped, raising an eyebrow. “You want me to stop?”

“No, I want you to stop teasing me!” Tom hissed angrily. “You’re even slower than I imagined, you idiot!”

For a moment, Tord was livid. He was moving to grip Tom’s wrists, squeezing them with as much strength as he could. He took a deep breath, but didn’t release his hold. “Fine. You want me to stop teasing? I’ll stop teasing.” 

He smashed his lips into Tom’s. Quite literally _smashed_. Tom opened his mouth as he gasped in pain, only to have Tord delve his tongue inside. Tom wanted to fight back, but this _was_ what he asked for. Tord was pressing him against the wall, still gripping Tom’s wrists with a passion as they pressed against his chest. Tord let go of his left hand, finally giving Tom the ability to move it. He began to grip Tord’s hair.

To be honest, he thought his punishment was over.

Then, Tord bit Tom’s lip.

Tom immediately reacted. He used his free hand to pull Tord’s head away, letting out a string of curses.

“You... you dick!” Tom spat, freeing his other hand as he wiped his mouth. He glanced down and, yup— it was bleeding.

“Hey, I did what you asked,” Tord mused, throwing his hands up in surrender.

“Damnit...!” Tom hissed under his breath. “Enough with this bullshit foreplay. I’m getting lube.” He was pulling off the rest of his clothes, except for his shirt. Tord watched him with an amused smile.

“I already have some.” Tom snapped his head up, tugging his shirt down. 

“You- you planned this?!” he accused, glaring at Tord.

“Well, I didn’t push you against the wall because of how great your ass looked,” Tord mocked in response, fishing out a bottle of lube from his pocket.

“Shit, isn’t that kind really expensive?”

He responded with a shrug, squirting an excessive amount onto his fingers. “Turn around.” Tom hesitated for a moment, but did as he was told. He tensed when he felt something cold poke him. He placed his arms on the wall, his forehead pressed against them. “Damnit, Thomas, you have to relax.”

“S-shut up! It’s not like I do this often!” Tom snapped in response. He took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “Just... get it over with already.” Tord laughed quietly. Then, he pressed his finger inside of Tom. The Brit gasped, his hands becoming fists. After a moment of stretching, he added another digit. 

“You’re a lot tighter than I expected,” Tord said, scissoring him.

“W-what the hell is that supposed- supposed to mean?” Tom hissed in response, knuckles turning white from how hard he was squeezing his fists.

“Well, with how you were acting when you were... _putting on your show,_ I had assumed you were a— errr, you’d done this shit a lot,” he explained, adding a third finger.

Tom bristled. “Yeah, well, you’ll—“ Tom cut himself off.

Yeah, there was no way in hell he was going to tell Tord he was a virgin.

“I’ll what? To busy moaning to answer?”

“You need to shut up, that’s what!” Tom snapped, only to let out a choked gasp when Tord pulled his fingers out.

“Alright, Jehovah’s Witness, turn around,” Tord ordered, hurriedly shoving down his sweatpants. Tom scoffed but turned around, greeted by Tord rubbing lube on himself.

Okay, so his dream got the fucking _size_ right.

It had a small vein popping from one side, a nice, thick bump in the middle. The head was a pinkish color. Tom let out a shaky breath, biting his lip.

How the hell was he going to take that?

“Stop gawking.” Tom snapped his head up, eyes widening with embarrassment. “I want to be inside of you.”

“T-then hurry the he- uh, the fuck up,” Tom stuttered wildly, wrapping his arms around Tord’s neck.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so adorable,” Tord mumbled, hooking his arms under Tom’s knees, the Brit placing his face on Tord’s shoulder. Despite the awkward position, he managed to lead his cock to Tom’s entrance. He shifted so Tom’s back was against the wall as he pressed inside slowly.

Tom let out a small gasp, breaths ragged. Tord was sliding inside of him smoothly thanks to the lube, every inch making Tom tense up more and more. Being spread open by something thicker than his fingers wasn’t something he planned on happening.

“God, you’re so tight,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb in a circular motion, trying to soothe Tom. Tom only responded with his battered breathing, clutching Tord’s sweatshirt. “You okay, Thomas?”

_No. I’m being fucked by the one person I’m supposed to despise, and I’m enjoying it. Of course I’m not okay!_

“Y-yeah,” he gasped out, despite his inner thoughts, “you’re just a lot bigger than what I’m used to.”

Tord snorted. “I don’t know if that’s a compliment to me or an insult to your previous partners.”

_My ‘previous partners’ happen to be my fingers._

“It was an insult,” he deadpanned, finally catching his breath.

“Of course. You could _never_ compliment me.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.”

“Whether you’re going to compliment me or not, I’m still gonna give you the best fuck of your life.” Tom opened his mouth to respond, only to let out a choked gasp when Tord pulled almost all the way out, only the tip inside of him. 

“ _Fuck_!” Tom hissed as Tord slammed inside him. He had hoped Tord would start slow, but the Norwegian just went straight to pounding. He kept shifting his thrusts, Tom squeaking and moaning with every one.

God, he didn’t want to admit it, but it felt _good_.

The feeling of being spread open, the way Tord was digging his nails into his thighs, how tears were pricking at his eyes from the pleasure of being fucked by his enemy—

It was really fucking good.

Then, Tord hit a spot Tom wasn’t expecting.

He jolted immediately, every muscle in his body stiffening as he let out a lewd whimper. He began to squirm, trying to adjust to the new position.

“You’re acting like you’ve never been fucked before,” Tord said mockingly, though he was soaking up every noise he earned from Tom.

“T-Tord— slow— slow down—“

Tord was close, so there was no way in _hell_ he was going to slow down.

He removed one of his hands, the Brit wrapping the leg around his waist as he began to pump Tom’s length.

“P-please, Tord, it’s too much—“

He was overstimulated, on the verge of coming, and Tord was still keeping at his relentless pace.

“Fuck, Thomas... I love how you squeeze around me... do you like this? Being fucked a few feet away from where our friends chat?”

“Fuck, yes... Tord, are you— are you close?” Tom didn’t _mean_ to sound like he was begging. He just needed this to end. Being fucked like this for your first time makes you ache, apparently.

Tord let out a deep chuckle. “Yeah, I’m close.”

“Tord, fuck— I want you to come in me— I _need_ you to—“

“I can do that if it keeps my baby satisfied.” A moment after that sentence, he let out a low groan, stuffing himself as far inside of Tom as he could. He was still stroking Tom as he came, the Brit following suit a moment later.

The only noise in the room was their heavy breathing. He could feel the sweat dripping off his skin as he shifted his hold, letting go of Tom’s knee and cock, placing them on his sides so he could slide Tom off of him.

Tom was holding onto the wall for support, legs shaking violently.

“That was one hell of a first time,” Tom muttered, too quiet for Tord to hear. The Norwegian perked an eyebrow but didn’t ask him to repeat himself. He glanced at his clothes, which had been rudely tossed to the side. He tugged his shirt down, mentally prepping himself to let go of his only support. Tord was tugging his sweatpants up, still watching Tom with amusement on his face.

Tom finally let go of the wall, taking a few, timid steps toward his clothes— only to lose his balance. He would’ve collapsed if Tord hadn’t grabbed Tom’s arm. “Careful now. Do you need some help?”

He shifted he was grasping Tord’s hand for balance, reaching down to grab his things. “Of course I don’t need help. I’m not a child.”

“It’s not that you’re a _child_ , Tom. You’re shaking pretty badly and your balance is off.”

“Look, I just need to go to the shower, clean up, and sleep. That’s not that hard. I’ll be fine in a moment.”

Tord furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “Alright, I guess.”


	5. The Water Is Hotter Than You

Tom turned the shower handle, sighing as cold water hit him. It dripped off of his hair and skin as he closed his eyes. He rain his fingers through his hair.

It was peaceful.

He liked showers. It was his time to get away from his noisy friends. It was his time to get away from _Tord_.

It had been four days since Tord pinned him against the wall. The day after, he couldn’t sit without flinching. Tord would watch him with a grin as he sat down on the kitchen chair, wincing in pain. Edd asked him if he was okay, especially when he noticed Tom’s lip. Tom waved it off as accidentally biting himself. He still ached. He wasn’t sure if that was normal, but he could walk and sit so he figured he was okay.

He and Tord had been avoiding each other— when they weren’t, they were completely silent or fighting. At one point, a fight had gotten so bad that Edd had to break it up and force them away from each other. Tom spat in Tord’s face and walked away, the Norwegian yelling obscenities as he left.

He couldn’t help it, okay?

Every time he looked at Tord, he would remember. He would remember the moaning, he would remember the sweat, he would remember how good it felt to be fucked by his enemy—

He slapped his cheeks as they began to heat up.

If he wasn’t distracting himselfby arguing with the Norwegian, that’s all he could think about. And he _hated_ it. He just wanted everything to go back to normal.

He was spooked out of his thoughts when the door handle clicked open. Frozen, he bit his lip as squeaking of the door made itself clear.

“Hey, Thomas.” The door closed, Tom tensing up.

“What the fuck do you want, commie?” he spat in response.

The shower curtain opened, and there Tord was.

Naked.

Tom let out an awkward cough, looking away.

“You know exactly what I want, Thomas.” Tord was entering the shower, but Tom refused to look. His arms were covering his chest, crossed.

“That was one time and I want to keep it that way.”

He stole a glance at Tord. The Norwegian was pouting like an idiot. “Come on. You had a _lot_ of fun last time.”

“Ugh— shut the fuck up, commie!” Tom hissed, shutting his eyes. He could feel how warm his cheeks were, but he didn’t care. He just wanted Tord to leave him alone. He felt a hand touch his waist, eyes squeezing tighter. He was ready to fight back, but then, another hand was rubbing his inner thigh.

“Please, Thomas?” Tord cooed, pulling him closer. Tom moved his arms so they were placed on Tord’s chest, eyes opening slightly.

His eyebrows were furrowed. Tord wasn’t wrong; he did enjoy himself last time, and he’d probably enjoy himself this time. He let out a soft sigh. “Let’s just get this over with, Tord.”

“Good answer.” Tord moved hand up and began to gently rub Tom, the Brit pressing his forehead into Tord’s chest. “You’re so cute, you know.” Tom let out a shaky breath as Tord grabbed the bottle of lube they used previously— wait, when the fuck did Tord have a bottle of lube—?

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Of course Tord brought it.

Tord removed his hand from Tom, squirting lube onto his hand. Placing the bottle to the side, he pressed his body against Tom’s, mouth next to his ear as he moved his finger to Tom’s hole. Tom grabbed Tord’s shoulder, bristling as the Norwegian pushed a finger inside of him slowly. He shifted slightly, one hand reaching down to stroke himself, moaning softly when Tord added another finger.

“You have such a nice body,” he purred as his fingers danced across Tom’s back. “You really should show it off more often.” He moved his fingers to touch Tom’s nipples, and their piercings, making Tom arch his back slightly. “Plus, you never told me about _these_. They’re so cute.”

“F...fuck- fuck you,” Tom hissed between gasps, biting his lip softly.

“Your ass is pretty nice, too. I can’t help but stare every time you bend over.” He had three fingers inside Tom by now, slowly coaxing the Brit open. “And when you _blush_. It isn’t a stupid pink that dusts your cheeks, it’s a bright red that covers your whole face and you look adorable when you’re blushing.”

Tom could feel his face heating up, worsening the blush Tord had just been talking about. “Shut-shut up.”

“Do you know how good you look when you’re needy? The way your eyelids droop, you bite your lip, and you try to pretend you’re neutral? But you want it. You want me, isn’t that right?” He was whispering directly into Tom’s ear, which he nibbled at a moment later.

He could hardly stay still. His pumps were quickening and he was squeezing Tord’s shoulder, a foot shuffling back.

“I’m right,” Tord said smugly, removing his fingers. Tom whimpered at the loss. Then, Tord was holding Tom in place, stopping all movement. Tom tried to fight back, but that lasted maybe a few seconds; Tord’s grip was tight, too tight for Tom to escape.

“Would you let me go?” Tom hissed, tugging at Tord’s hold. Tord forced Tom to turn around, gripping Tom’s wrist as he pulled their bodies together. His hot breath was on Tom’s neck, a small shiver running down his spine.

“I want to fuck you until I can feel your sweet little hole clenching around me,” Tord purred, running his fingers up Tom’s side. The Brit’s breath hitched at the words, stilling. “Do you like it when I talk dirty?” He released Tom’s wrist, but the Brit didn’t try to escape. “God, you make me so hard.” He pressed his cock against Tom’s entrance, only the tip entering. “You have to be quiet, though. Edd and Matt are home and I’m sure you don’t want to be found like this.” 

Tom huffed out a small laugh. “Look at that. You’re right about something for once.” The Norwegian responded with a scoff, wrapping his arms around Tom’s waist and pushing himself slowly inside. Tom placed his hands over his mouth, muffling the whimper that escaped.

“It’s so hot inside of you,” Tord said with a grunt, squeezing Tom’s waist as the Brit rolled his hips back. 

“Shut the fuck up.” The phrase was muffled, but Tord understood what he said, chuckling.

He started with a slow space, listening to Tom’s harsh breaths. His nails were digging into Tom’s sides, watching as the Brit sank down on him. Sweat was dripping from both of them, Tom panting from the heat. The warm water wasn’t helping, either, so Tom moved one of his hands away from his mouth to make the water colder. The moment his palm touched the handle, Tord was pushing him against the wall and speeding up his thrusts, moving to tug gently on Tom’s piercings.

Tom was trying to keep himself quiet, but now Tord was rubbing against his prostate and there was heat pooling in his stomach. He was slipping from how wet the wall was, so he moved his other hand to steady himself, and, oops, that was a really loud moan.

Tord’s eyes flared, releasing Tom’s piercing and shoving his fingers into Tom’s mouth. His other hand was gripping the Brit’s side so hard that he winced. Tord worsened his pace, wreaking chaos on Tom’s body.

“What the hell was that?”

Tom shivered at the menace in the Norwegian’s voice.

“Do you _want_ to be caught?”

Tom knew better than to talk. He was terrified of upsetting Tord, especially in such a vulnerable position. So, he just shook his head.

“Then you’re so pathetic that you can’t keep quiet?”

He shook his head again, tears pooling at the edge of his eyes.

Not that he was upset at Tord’s words. They exchanged insults all the time. 

It was just the nails digging into his side and the fingers being pushed into his mouth. It was the way he was rolling his hips back to meet Tord’s thrusts despite the abuse. It was the way he was _enjoying_ how rough Tord was being. 

“You might’ve gotten us caught! Is that what you want, Thomas?!”

He shook his head again, whimpering softly as Tord sunk his nails even further into Tom’s skin.

“Is this what you wanted, then? To make me angry so I would fuck you roughly?”

Part of him wanted to nod, to forget about himself and let Tord ruin him. He wanted Tord to fuck him until he was drooling. But, he also had his dignity. So, he shook his head. 

“Then you _are_ pathetic!”

Tord dug himself as far inside of Tom as he came. Tom was coming as well at the feeling of Tord filling him, the warmth rushing around in his insides.

Tord gently removed himself from Tom’s body, hands and cock. Tom was panting harshly, placing his forehead on the wall. He moved one hand to press it into his side. It had a burning sensation. 

Was it bleeding?

He brought his hand back. There wasn’t much, but their was definitely blood smeared on his hand. 

“Shit, are you okay? I took it too far.” Tord placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder, raising his eyebrows when he realized how hard the Brit was shivering.

“Get... get out.”

“Tom—“

“I said _get out.”_ Tom whipped his head around to glare at Tord.

Tord hesitated, but nodded. He was moving the shower curtains to leave, sending one more glance at Tom before he left, face contorted in concern. Tom sank to the ground, hand still on the wall.

After a couple moment of shuffling, he heard the door open then close. Tord was gone.

Jesus Christ.

He wasn’t supposed to be gay. He liked girls, but he liked Tord, too. How would Edd and Matt react if they found out? Would they be disgusted? Would they kick him out?

Maybe it was just his body reacting to Tord’s touch. Yeah. He just... didn’t have control over how good it felt.

A tiny bit of uncertainty hung in the air.

He would have time to test his theory out. After all, if he knew Tord even somewhat, that definitely wasn’t going to be the last time.

He let out a soft sigh.

He _wasn’t_ gay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, i hope you enjoyed.  
> i've hit a pretty major writers block. i'll still update, but updates will be slow.


	6. Gagging is a Turn-Off

“So, are you guys going to the pride event?”

Tom choked.

They were currently in the kitchen, eating the breakfast Tom had made. Scrambled eggs with the side of bacon, plus coffee to start off the day. Tom was in the middle of stuffing his face full of eggs, so when Edd asked the question, he choked.

“Matt and I were gonna go, but we need to travel a bit to get there, so we’re leaving pretty early,” Edd explained, not acknowledging Tom.

“Shit, that’s today? I don’t have anything for it.” Tord furrowed his eyebrows. After a moment, he sighed, his thin mouth settling. “I’ll probably just post something on tumblr.”

Tom snorted, still pretending that he was staring off into space. In reality, he was looking at Tord. The Norwegian’s jawline was sharp, his skin just the right tone between tan and pale, the color really bringing out his russet eyes, which were really fun to stare at; Tom could get lost in the heavy stare for hours if he wanted to, not to mention his hair was thick, just like his muscles that he could slightly see through Tord’s black shirt—

“Tom!”

The Brit immediately jumped, almost tumbling back. Luckily, he had grabbed the table before he tipped over the kitchen chair. “What the hell, Edd?” he hissed, forwarding his glare toward the burly man.

“Dude, I asked you if you were coming three times, but you were staring off into space. You feeling okay?” Edd’s voice contained a hint of concern(probably for good reason, due to Tom’s emotional state because _holy shit_ he had been staring at Tord).

“I don’t think I’m going. I don’t want to intrude.” Tom waved his hand slightly.

The words caused Edd to raise his eyebrows, but it was Matt who spoke, “Why would you be intruding? I mean, I don’t _think_ you’re homophobic.”

“N-no, I’m not homophobic!” Tom stuttered out quickly, “It’s just, even if I was there as an ally, I can’t help but feel like... like it’s their safe space?”

“That’s okay. We’re not gonna pressure you into anything.”

“As an ‘ally’? You’re straight?”

Matt and Edd both spoke at once, causing Tom to wince. Especially with the sexuality subject. He was confused enough as it was, he didn’t want Edd and Matt to make it worse.

“Yeah,” he said, forcing his voice to steady. He could see Tord shift his head up a little in the corner of his eyes, but the Norwegian didn’t say anything.

Edd looked like he was debating whether or not to continue the subject or change it. With a quick glance at Tom and how uncomfortable the Brit was, he made his decision. “Matt and I will leave after I finish cleaning up... though, that might make us late.”

“I’ll clean up,” Tord offered, “so you guys can leave right now if you want.”

Edd looked at him in surprise. Tord _never_ cleaned if he didn’t have to, so the fact that he was offering very... out of character, to say the least. “That’s... new,” he said, voicing his concern, “but I can’t complain.” He turned to Matt. “You ready, dude?”

Matt grinned. “Yeah, let’s go!” Edd nodded, placing his plate in the sink. Matt followed suite, and with that, they were leaving the kitchen. Tord was watching them as they went, staring at the doorway.

Tom began to pick at his food. Now that he and Tord were alone, he lost his appetite. Finally, they heard the front door open then close.

Edd and Matt were out of the house.

“You’re straight?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not what you were saying when I was inside of you.”

Tom didn’t say anything, though his red cheeks spoke for him just fine.

“If you are straight, then why did you agree to let me... ya know?” For once, the Norwegian didn’t sound menacing. His voice was soft, and for some stupid fucking reason Tom couldn’t comprehend, it was relaxing.

“I...” Tom took a small breath. “I don’t know.”

Tord’s voice began to get louder with every word. “I would’ve understood if you only did it once, because you could’ve been curious, but then you agreed to do it a second time, not to _mention_ I saw you _fingering_ yourself—“

“I’m not gay!” Tom’s voice cracked mid-sentence as he shot up, hands slamming on the table.

Tord wasn’t intimidated. He was standing up as well, rushing toward Tom. He was faster than Tom could handle, the Norwegian grabbing the Tom’s shoulders and forcing him around. Their bodies were too close for Tom’s comfort, his face burning. “You’re not gay? Then why do you enjoy being _fucked_ so much?” Tord snarled, pushing Tom against the table, their bodies flushed together.

“I-it’s not my fault!” Tom stuttered, pressing his forearms against Tord’s chest.

“The fact that you _consented_ isn’t your fault?” His face was so close, too close, his hot breath hitting Tom’s face.

The Brit squeezed his eyes shut as the words unwillingly tumbled out, “It’s not my fault you make me feel so good!” Tord went silent. Upon realizing what he had said, Tom’s eyes snapped open and he was trying to slither away from Tord’s grasp, face becoming a brighter red. Did he really just say such an embarrassing thing? Oh, god he did.

The Norwegian sighed, shutting his eyes as he forced Tom in place. “Have you ever thought you might be bi?” he said, annoyance leaking through his voice.

“No. I’m straight. I’ve always been straight. You’re not gonna suddenly make me gay, or even bisexual. That’s not how it works, right? _Right?”_ He was panicking now, pushing against Tord with all his strength, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Thomas, you need to calm down,” Tord ordered, though his voice was smooth like honey. “It’s okay, Thomas.”

“No, it’s not okay! I’m not gay!” he spat. “I’m not—!”

Tom was cut off when Tord pressed his lips into the Brit’s. The kiss was gentle, more gentle than anything Tord had done to him. He was relaxing slightly, Tord’s grip softening too.

The Norwegian pulled away, eyes narrowed.

“You didn’t fight back. Hell, it calmed you down. So why are you so confused?”

“It’s not that simple,” he said, moving his head away.

“Why not?” Tord’s voice was commanding, the Norwegian’s eye twitching.

“Because!”

Tord sighed at his answer. “Do you want to continue?”

He froze. “C...continue?”

“I’d _love_ to continue fucking you, but I’m not going to if you want to stop.”

Tom closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure. It would help him figure out how he... _felt_ , but maybe it would make his answer biased. It also was blissful to have Tord inside of him. So, he answered, “Yeah. I do.”

He watched as a grin appeared on Tord’s face. “Good answer.” He leaned in toward Tom, his mouth not an inch apart from the Brit’s. “What about right now?”

His voice was merely a whisper, but it sent shivers down Tom’s spine. “I’d be up for that,” he replied shakily.

Tord moved away, shrugging, though his smug grin stayed. “I’m not. Maybe tomorrow, or next week.” He turned to walk away.

“What? No! That’s not fair!” Tom said immediately, hand snaking out to grab the back of his shirt.

Tord shifted so he was facing Tom once again. “It’s not fair that I don’t want to fuck you?” Tord’s voice was full of confidence.

“It’s not fair that you tease me like this,” Tom whined, leaning forward. 

“Well... I guess there is something you could do.”

This was totally a trap, but Tom was going grab the bait. He _knew_ he’d get something out of this. “If you give me something in return, hell yeah.”

Tord let out a soft laugh. “I want you to give me a blowjob. If you do so successfully, I’ll make it worth your while.”

His heart skipped a beat. He had never given a blowjob. Would Tord make fun of him? Would Tord not enjoy himself?

“I’ll guide you through it, Thomas. Let me go grab the lube.” With that, Tord turned and rushed out of the room.

Lube? Why would he need lube for a blowjob?

Oh. Yeah, unless he wanted to spend the whole time getting seven inches of skin comfortably wet enough so he’d fit it inside his mouth, lube would be nice.

His face was red. It was hot and Tord was taking too long, plus he was already starting to get hard. He placed his hand over his crotch and rolled his hips into it, eyes shutting as he began to pant.

He didn’t even realize Tord was in the room until the Norwegian was grabbing his wrist softly and pulling his hand away.

“You are so impatient, Thomas. You couldn’t have waited for me?” Tord asked, leading him toward a kitchen chair.

“You were taking too long,” he replied, eyes narrowed slightly.

Tord let out a small laugh. “Fair enough.” He settled on the kitchen chair. “Get on your knees, Thomas.”

“Yeah, okay,” Tom said sarcastically. He might as well keep a little bit of his dignity left. He settled, legs pressed against the ground. His face was just above Tord’s crotch.

Tord began to fumble with his jeans, pulling that and his underwear down to his knees, revealing his cock. It was only half-hard. “The lube is right here whenever you’re ready.” He placed it down on the ground next to Tom. “If you want help, don’t be afraid to ask.”

Tom nodded. He shifted slightly so his hands were on Tord, the Norwegian spreading his legs wider to give Tom more room. One of his hands was on Tord’s thigh, the other already pumping his cock.

He wanted it to be at full length when he put it in his mouth, but he wanted to take his time. He lifted it slightly and dragged his tongue across the bottom, taking only the tip inside of his mouth. He rolled his tongue around it, taking in a deep breath through his nose. 

He was hit with Tord’s scent and Jesus Christ, it was strong. Strong enough to almost send Tom reeling. He removed his mouth and hands from Tord, rushing to squeeze out just enough lube. He rubbed it onto Tord, eyes wide because _holy shit he wanted it inside of him_. All previous teasing was thrown out the window at this point.

Once it was fully coated in lube, he curled his lips around his teeth and placed it inside of his mouth. He let it slide down his throat, but had to stop half way because he really didn’t want to gag. Gagging was a turn-off.

“Come on, Thomas, use your tongue.”

He furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, rolling his tongue up and around Tord. The Norwegian let out a grunt, placing a hand on the back of Tom’s head. He took that as a signal to try and take more in. Further and further until the only thing Tom smell was Tord, so he was reaching down to undo his own jeans, tugging them down so he could rub himself.

“God, does sucking cock make you that horny?” Tom only responded with a glare, Tord only laughing.

Using his free hand, he began to fumble with Tord’s balls, immediately earning a groan from the Norwegian. He began to bob his head up and down, Tord letting out a fervent noise of appreciation.

He began to push Tom further down, hand gripping his hair, the Brit focusing on not choking. He could feel Tord’s cock pressing against his throat, so he shifted— anything to make it slide in better.

Finally, his nose hit Tord’s skin.

“Jesus Christ. I can’t believe you took it all in on your first try.”

Tom only let out a moan around Tord’s cock. He hand was moving quickly around himself, rolling his hips. His eyes were squinted in pleasure, face red.

He glanced at Tord.

The Norwegian was staring at him. Tom spread his legs just a bit further, noting how Tord leaned in slightly.

“Thomas.” He tugged Tom’s head back. “I’m gonna come.”

He let Tord slide out of him, gasping for breath as he let his free hand rub Tord, keeping to a rhythmic motion. 

It only took a few moments for come to splatter on his face, landing on his tongue, his eyes squeezing shut. He was still panting harshly as his pumps quickened. He managed to open one eye, the other covered in come. Tord was watching him with this immensely please face.

Finally, he came as well.

He was panting. Tord reached down and began to wipe everything of his face.

“Not gay my ass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr now. https://bunshinfanfiction.tumblr.com  
> I’m using it as an update tool, answering questions, suggestions, pretty much everything because I don’t want to spam authors note.


	7. Sleep With Me Tonight

Tom let out a soft yawn, bringing his hands up to stretch. Edd was next to him, snoring louder than a roaring engine. By the looks of it, Matt was asleep, too. His eyes were closed and his breathing was calm. Tord, on the other hand, was on his phone. He probably didn’t even realize the movie ended.

The television was set to shut off in five minutes, so Tom didn’t bother to get up and shut it off himself. He nestled back into the couch, ready to fall asleep.

“Thomas?”

He was too tired to be irritated, so he just responded with, “Mmh?”

“Remember what I said... uh, last time?”

Tom furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“I said I would make it worth your while.”

He opened his eyes, eyes flickering toward the Norwegian. “Right now? But what if we wake up Edd and Matt?”

Tord stood, brushing his legs off. “Don’t worry, we won’t.” When he spotted Tom’s unsure look, he held out a hand and said, “I promise.”

Reluctantly, he took Tord’s hand, standing up as well. “So, what is it?” he asked as Tord led him toward his room.

“Well... I don’t want to ruin the surprise. Though, I do have _one_ condition.”They were walking down the hallway to Tord’s room now.

“I thought sucking your dick was enough. What’s your ‘condition’?” The Norwegian opened his bedroom door and pushed Tom inside, closed it, then rushed toward his closet.

“You have to wear...” Tord was rummaging around inside his closet, but then spun around with a grin on his face. “This!”

In his hands was a pair of panties. Tom’s eyes widened at the sight. “You want me... to wear women’s clothing... so you can ‘reward’ me?”

“Yup! Literally nothing but the panties.”

Tom placed his face in his hands, letting out a big sigh. “And it’ll be worth it?”

“You’ll probably be asking to do it again.”

Tom took a few steps forward, snatching them from Tord’s hands. “F-fine. But you can’t watch. Turn around.”

Tord let out a small laugh, but threw his hands up in surrender and turned around. “Remember, nothing but those.”

He scoffed and fought the urge to hit Tord. Glancing down at the pink, lace panties, he sighed. He pulled his sweatshirt and his shirt off, glancing at Tord every now and again to make sure the Norwegian wasn’t watching. Next, he had to get his jeans off. After a moment of tugging, they were completely down, quickly followed by briefs. He took one quick glance at the panties before swallowing down his pride. He leaned down and got one leg through one of the holes when he realized how skinny the string was.

“You need some help?” Tord asked, though he kept his promise and didn’t look at Tom.

“You’re dead to me,” he hissed out, finally sliding the panties up his legs. He glanced down at himself, wincing. Already half-hard, you could see his bulge, and the back of the panties showed his whole ass. His cheeks felt like they were on fire at this point. “I got it on.”

Tord turned around, a smug look on his face. “Damn. You look hot.” Frozen in place, Tom watched as the Norwegian stared hungrily at his body. Then, Tord opened his mouth and, with a smooth voice, said, “Turn around, Thomas.” Tom shivered slightly, but did as he was told. It was silent, and Tom debated on asking Tord what he was planning to do when all of the sudden he felt warm hands touch his ass, causing him to jolt.

The hands would squeeze his cheeks before moving to a different location, then the cycle would repeat. 

So, in short, Tord was feeling him up.

“Is this my reward? Because if it is, then it’s not a very good one,” Tom snarled. To be honest, he was getting more and more hard the longer Tord teased him.

“I’ll give you your reward after you answer my question,” Tord hummed into his ear.

“Then hurry the fuck up and ask it.”

Tord huffed out a laugh, spreading Tom’s asscheeks. “Was I your first?”

“Uhhh...”

“Jesus Christ, I was.” He placed his head onto Tom’s shoulder. “God. I’m sorry. I would’ve been more gentle if I knew. I thought you were experienced, so I was pretty rough.”

“No, it’s okay! I like it— I don’t mind it when you’re rough!” Tom said quickly, stuttering over his phrasing. Tord began to laugh.

“I’ll be sure to remember that.” He placed his hands on Tom’s shoulders and forced the Brit around. “Really, though, you should wear panties more often.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Sure, whatever.”

“Sit down,” he ordered, turning to rush toward his nightstand. Tom raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest, settling down on the Norwegian’s bed. He began to tap his fingers on his leg as he watched Tord, who was pulling out a small, red box.

“What’s that?” Tom asked curiously as Tord opened the box.

“It’s a toy box!” he replied cheerfully as he pulled something out of it. When he turned around, Tom almost choked on thin air.

He was holding a ball gag.

“Since you can’t keep quiet on your own, I figured this would help,” Tord explained, climbing in front of Tom. “That’s okay, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Tom stuttered out, unsure of how to react.

“Good. Open your mouth.”

Tentatively, he did as he was told. Tord placed the ball in Tom’s mouth, tying the ends together.

“Is that comfortable?” he asked, running his fingers down Tom’s side.

Tom shivered at the feeling. He let his tongue run across the gag, eyes narrowing slightly before he nodded.

“Alright. Since you can’t speak, if you need me to stop, just snap your fingers, okay?”

Tom decided not to dwell on what that meant, nodding again.

“Good boy,” Tord said with a purr, settling down on the bed and pulling Tom onto his lap. Grinning, the Norwegian began to rub Tom’s sides, slowly moving his hands farther and farther down until they were at his legs. Tom spread his legs a little bit further, trying to entice Tord into touching him. 

Tord let out a gentle laugh.

“Not yet, baby.” He continued to rub Tom’s legs, inching closer and closer to the panties. Trailing his fingers around Tom’s hips, he grabbed Tom’s ass, watching as the Brit got more and more heated. Tord suddenly removed his hands from Tom, reaching for the red box and pulling it closer, then opening the top drawer of his nightstand. He pulled out the bottle of lube.

Tom let out a confused noise through the gag when he glanced at the box. His eyebrows raised in slight concern, but Tord payed no attention as he squirted some onto his fingers. He reached across Tom, pushing the panty string to the side. Looking up at him as he jolts, he pressed two fingers inside of the man. Whining quietly, Tom squeezed his eyes shut.

“You’re a good boy when you got something inside of you, hmm?” Tord teased, scissoring his fingers as the Brit nodded.

He added another digit, smirk growing bigger as Tom spread his legs even further. He was subtly begging Tord to touch him, but now wasn’t the time.

He removed his fingers from Tom, wiping them against the bed. He reached into the red box, Tom watching him intently. He rummaged through it before pulling out two pink, egg shaped toys. Tom titled his head in confusion, narrowing his eyes when Tord laughed at him.

He coated them with lube before pushing one inside, moving it around until it nestled into Tom’s sweet spot, confirmed by a moan. He pushed in the second one, careful not to move the first. They were followed by strings, which led to a small device with a dial on it. So, Tord turned them both to their lowest settings.

Tom’s eyes widened immediately, squeaking. He began to squeeze Tord’s sweatshirt, pressing his face into the Norwegian’s shoulder.

“Do you like it?” Tord purred, his lips trailing past Tom’s neck. The Brit only let out a moan, followed by a squeak as Tord bit down into his skin. He continued to leave nasty hickeys on Tom’s shoulders and collarbone, occasionally tugging on his piercings.

The vibrations were gentle, but it was enough for Tom to writhe, plus having Tord sucking and biting at him didn’t really help. The Norwegian removed himself from Tom, watching him as he twisted. 

He needed Tord to touch him. The need was so strong that he’d beg if he had to. 

“I’m going to raise the level,” Tord warned. Tom let out a grunt of acknowledgement, eyes opening just a bit. Tord turned the dials once, twice, and Tom was reeling. He closed his legs to try and rub his cock against his thighs, but Tord quickly caught him, spreading his legs. 

He pushed the Brit off of his lap, forcing him against the bed. His hands were still on Tom’s thighs, giving him the perfect sight of Tom. His cock was definitely smaller than Tord’s, but it wasn’t tiny. It had an delightful, irritated pink head, a color that matched his cute little hole. He pulled the panties down to get a better look. Really, seeing his enemy bending to his will was quite a pleasant sight.

“You’re so adorable, Thomas,” he cooed, rubbing the Brit’s inner thighs. He responded with a whine through the gag, twisting and turning under Tord’s touch. “Alright, I’m going to set it to its highest setting. Get ready, baby.”

He moved the dials twice once again, and Tom reacted immediately. He began to curl up, tears pooling at the edge of his eyes, which he squeezed shut. He could hear Tord let out his stupid laugh, but Tom was honestly too close to care.

“Classic, stupid Tom,” Tord purred as he finally began to stroke Tom, whose legs were still wide open. The Brit whined and moaned through the gag, drool dribbling off of his chin as he opened his eyes. The heat pooled in his stomach and he was so close.

He came with a jolt, come splattering on his stomach and Tord’s hand. The Norwegian turned off the vibrators and pulled them out. Forcing Tom to sit up, he tossed the toys to the side. He quickly untied and removed the gag, still staring at Tom with a smug look on his face.

Tom didn’t retaliate. Really, he just needed to catch his breath. For maybe a minute, the only thing heard in the room was loud panting before it slowed into a normal pace.

“You finally got your breath back, baby?” Tord said, running his fingers through Tom’s hair.

“Yeah,” he answered, eyes flickering down. Tord was hard. “You know, you could’ve jacked off instead of paying attention to me.”

Tord chuckled, wrapping his arms around Tom’s waist. “Maybe, but that wouldn’t have been any fun.” Tord leaned in so his mouth was a few inches away from Tom’s. “Besides, it was fun watching you squirm.” With that, he pressed his lips into Tom’s, the Brit closing his eyes. 

The kiss was soft and slow. Tom could feel himself leaning into it. Tord was usually so rough, which Tom didn’t really mind, but having such a gentle moment was nice.

Finally, Tord pulled away. It quiet between the two as Tom opened his eyes. The Norwegian was staring at him with this dorky grin. Like he had just won a goldfish at the carnival.

Tom sighed and reached over, undoing Tord’s jeans. With a grin, the Norwegian leaned back. Tom pulled his cock out, giving it lazy strokes as he yawned. Really, he just wanted to get this over with and sleep. He leaned down to place his mouth over, but stopped when he noticed pre-come dribbling out from the slit. Reluctantly, he stuck his tongue out and licked it.

Okay, so it wasn’t that bad.

He continued to stroke the cock as he rolled his tongue around the tip. Glancing up when Tord let out a low groan, he let about an inch slide into his throat.

Without a warning, come exploded into his mouth. It was thick and salty, and Tom definitely wasn’t expecting that taste.

He removed himself from the cock, ready to spit it out when Tord said, “Swallow it.”

Tom glanced at the Norwegian. He wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to do it, but the way Tord had said it... well, it made him want to obey.

Not that he would ever tell Tord that.

He swallowed, feeling the warm, thickness of the come slide down his throat. When he got it completely down, he opened his mouth to take a deep breath. He wouldn’t mind swallowing again.

“Good boy,” Tord said as he began to clean himself up. Tom rolled his eyes, despite the little shiver that went down his spine from the two words, and sat on the edge of the bed. He peeled the panties off, placing them next to him, then grabbed his shirt and sweatshirt. “Tom?”

“Hmm?” he replied as he pulled the two pieces of clothing over his head.

“Sleep with me tonight.”

Tom’s eyes widened slightly. That sounded awesome, but... “What about Edd and Matt? Won’t they notice?”

“Probably not. Besides, we can just clean up together.”

Tom paused, thinking for a moment. “...okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m actually proud of this chapter.  
> Also, I’ve hit 11,000 words. Frankly, I’m surprised I managed too.


	8. Cumslut

 

Tord tugged a blanket over his lap, one hand swinging lazily off the couch. There was a documentary playing on the television, but he could really care less for what it’s about.

 

“Aye, commie.” Tord looked up to see Tom nonchalantly leaning on the wall. He was good at hiding it, but Tord guessed the black-eyed man needed the wall for balance.

 

“What?” he replied, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

 

“Where’s Edd and Matt?” Tom’s words were slurred and it took Tord all but a few seconds to realize he was probably drunk.

 

“They went to the store like every Sunday, you drunk,” Tord snapped, turning his head back to the television.

 

“In this weather?” There was a hint of concern in his voice, not that Tord cared.

 

As if it were summoned, a loud boom of thunder shook the house, Tord stifling a laugh when Tom jumped. “It’s just a thunderstorm, Jehovah’s Witness. They’ll survive.”

 

“Do you know when they’ll get back?” he asked, eyes wide.

 

Tord let out a frustrated sigh, throwing his head back to glare at Tom. “I don’t know. Come here.”

 

Tom blinked, but did as he was told, all while asking, “Why?”

 

The Norwegian didn’t answer, watching him as he got closer. His walking was uneven, and he wasn’t walking in a straight line. When he stood in front of the couch, Tord ordered, “Sit down.”

 

Tom crossed his arms. “Is this some creepy shit you Norski’s do?” he spat, matching Tord’s gaze as the Norwegian sat up.

 

“Why can’t you follow—“ he grabbed Tom by the hips and spun the British man around— “one _simple—“_ one hand still on Tom’s hip, he grasped Tom’s hood— “order?” With that, he tugged on Tom’s hood and pulled the Brit down.

 

“Ow,” was all he said, rubbing the front of his neck.

 

“Now you stay sitting, and don’t make a damn peep, got it?” Tord snarled, not waiting for an answer as he grabbed the remote and increased the volume.

 

“Put on a shirt, commie.”

 

Tord glared at Tom. “What the hell did I just say?” Tom went silent, his stare still trained on Tord. He didn’t bother to react.

 

“Is that a tattoo?”

 

Tord left out a hefty sigh, rubbing one of his temples. “Yes, Thomas, it’s a tattoo.”

 

“It looks stupid. Like your hair.”

 

Tord glanced at his own shoulder. It was the Red Army symbol. Tom, the drunken bitch, had insulted the symbol to the army he lead.

 

That was the final straw.

 

He threw the blanket off of him before standing, whipping his head around to face Tom. “Don’t you _dare_ think about moving, Thomas.”

 

Tom blinked in surprise before shrugging. “Whatever you wish, hot stuff.”

 

Tord scoffed before stomping away and down the hallway. The stupid fucking Brit decided to annoy him, so it was Tord’s responsibility to get him to shut the fuck up.

 

Swinging the door open, he rushed inside and toward his nightstand. He pulled the bottom drawer and grabbed the same red box they had used last session and threw the top open before grabbing the lube and a black marker, shoving the items into the pocket of his sweatpants.

 

Honestly, maybe he had _too_ many sex toys, but with the Brit as his new plaything, he had someone to use them on.

 

At one point, he wanted to introduce Tom to the pit. Not yet, though. He didn’t want to scare the poor thing off.

 

He pulled out a black collar, which had a leash trailing off of a hook on the side. Painted on the front was his symbol. The symbol Tom had insulted.

 

Really, he was going to make the fucker pay.

 

Not bothering to close the toy box, he placed it on the nightstand and rushed out of the room.

 

Behind his annoyance was rising excitement. He would have a lot of fun using Tom. His frown was overtaken by a sinister grin as he thought of the Brit squirming desperately underneath him, wearing nothing but a collar...

 

Damn, if he wasn’t horny before, he was horny now.

 

When he arrived back in the living room, Tom had been obedient enough to stay sitting, though he looked ready nod off. The Brit was going to wake up soon enough.

 

He only realized Tom was aware of his presence when the Brit said, “What the fuck are you holding, Fry?”

 

Tord sighed irritably at the nickname, a snarl on his lips. “If you’re going to act like a disobedient bitch, you’re going to be treated like one.”

 

Tom’s gaze slid from Tord’s pissed of face to the collar. “Whadya gonna do?” he slurred, eyes wide.

 

Walking toward Tom, the Norwegian unhooked the collar. “This,” he stated simply before wrapping the collar around Tom’s neck, snapping it together.

 

Tom’s hands flew up to the collar, tugging at it. Tord had purposely made it tight(not tight enough to choke Tom) so the Brit couldn’t get it off. “You piece of shit,” Tom snarled, “is this because I insulted your stupid tattoo?”

 

Tord took one glance at the leash in his hand and, in a sharp and sudden movement, pulled as hard as he could.

 

“Shit!” Tom shouted as he was forced off the couch. “You god damn commie!”

 

“If you can’t behave, you’ll be treated like a dog,” he sneered in response, tugging the leash gently.

 

Tom sighed, placing his head in his hands as he stood. “You kinky bastard.”

 

“You’re just as kinky as I am, Tom,” he said as he walked back to the couch, sitting down. “Now, you can either sit on the floor or on my lap.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Tom glanced at the floor then at Tord, seemingly assessing his options.

 

His defeat began with a sigh and a smug grin from Tord, his feet moving without permission.

 

Tord still held the leash in his hand, Tom sneaking a look at it before he turned around and sat down.

 

Hands wrapped around his waist and soft kisses being pressed into the spots of his neck that weren’t covered, though the stupid fucking collar and his sweatshirt was getting in the way.

 

As if Tord could read his thoughts, hands were pulling on his sweatshirt. He lifted his arms up and in seconds his sweatshirt was discarded, thrown off to the side.

 

Then, teeth were sinking down into the skin where his shoulders and neck connected, and Jesus fucking Christ that hurt. Tom let out a drunken squeak of pain, but he didn’t move in fear of the teeth tearing further at his skin.

 

Tord removed his teeth from Tom, gently kissing the bleeding marks.

 

“You bastard,” Tom snarled, whipping his head around to glare at Tord. The Norwegian did not respond, sliding his hands down to Tom’s shirt, ready to take it off, but Tom rushed to grab Tord’s hands.

 

“Hmm?” Tord hummed into his ear, yet not making any moves.

 

Tom had sex with Tord without a shirt for two of the six chapters(not counting his dream), and he sure as hell didn’t want to make it three out of seven, because, ya know, he was self-conscious and Tord was a muscled army man with abs and chiseled arms and while Tom wasn’t weak, he still had a pudgy stomach and he didn’t want Tord to judge him, because god he was really fucking ugly and he doubted that would change no matter how many times his friends said he wasn’t and he’s rambling again, isn’t he?

 

“Tom?”

 

His face heated up when he realized how long he had been silent, so he just delicately squeezed Tord’s hands and sputtered out, “N-no. I wanna keep my- I wanna keep my, uh, my shirt on.”

 

Oh god, he had stuttered way too much.

 

“Alright,” Tord mused, not questioning Tom’s request. “If I do something you don’t like or I take it too far, say brownie, okay?”

 

Tom snorted, trying to pretend his little freak out didn’t happen. “Brownie is a stupid safe word.”

 

Tord gripped Tom’s wrists tight, causing him to wince slightly. “Would you rather there be no safe word?”

 

He visibly swallowed. “Brownie is a great safe word.”

 

Tord let out a husky laugh into his ear, sending shivers down his spine, because oh dear that was hot. “Good choice.”

 

He gently nibbled on Tom’s ear, hands still gripping the Brit’s wrists. Tom could feel a giggle stuck in his throat as Tord continued to nip at various places on Tom’s ear.

 

Then he began to grind up against Tom, which took the poor thing by surprise. “How about we play a game, Thomas?”

 

“Wha...?” He glanced back at Tord in confusion.

 

“Let’s play Would You Rather. I’ll ask the questions and you’ll answer them. _Honestly.”_

 

“Uhm... okay,” Tom replied hesitantly. Tord’s voice was full of hidden malice, which made Tom kind of anxious.

 

But they had a safe word.

 

He’ll be fine.

 

“Would you rather have sex with the lights on or off?” Tord pushed his a hand under Tom’s shirt, thumb rubbing the Brit’s waist.

 

“On?” Tom replied, but it sounded more like a question than an answer.

 

Tord reached his free hand to the lamp on the table, clicking it off. Darkness enveloped the room in time with a crash of thunder that reminded Tom how heavily it was raining. “Would you rather be on top of me or below me?”

 

Tom let out a panicked breath before saying, “On top?”

 

Tord pushed Tom off of his lap, forcing him down. He placed his fingers on the hem of Tom’s jeans and was tugging them off, Tom shifting to get them off, along with his briefs. Once they were discarded, Tord moved so he was hovering over Tom.

 

After that, it took Tom a matter of seconds to realize what Tord was doing. “You mother fucker,” he snarled, narrowing his eyes as he glared at Tord.

 

The Norwegian’s face was only visible thanks to the television, giving Tom the ability to see his stupidly smug features. “Remember, Tom, you answer honestly. Otherwise I’ll have to punish you.”

 

Tom let out a breathy laugh. “Punish me?” he mocked as Tord pulled out the bottle of lube.

 

Tord didn’t respond, squirting lube and at that moment a rush of heat swallowed Tom’s face because he realized how damn _vulnerable_ he was like this. What was worse was the fact that it was Tord, the cocky Norwegian with a sexy, shit-eating grin that he hated, that put him in this position.

 

God, this situation was fucked up.

 

“Would you rather have two or three fingers inside of you?”

 

The sentence caught Tom off-guard, figuring he had just spaced out. “Two,” he answered confidently, only to feel one, two, and three sliding inside of him and holy treehouses on fire, that felt weird.

 

Tord dug his digits inside of Tom, spreading him gently, eliciting a very quiet whine.

 

He hated teasing. He just wanted Tord to pick him up and fuck the hell out of him.

 

Tord twisted his fingers around, occasionally pushing in and out. Tom reached to grab his own cock, because god, he was uncomfortably erect at this point, but Tord slapped his hand away. “No,” he warned firmly. Pulling his fingers out, Tord sent Tom a smug grin. “Would you rather be fucked slowly or fast and hard?”

 

Oh, god. He knew if he responded with the truth, Tord would just go slow as hell. So, that left him with one option.

 

Lie.

 

“Slowly,” he answered, watching as Tord began to pull something else out of his pocket.

 

The Norwegian sighed, shaking his head. “You know what I said, Thomas. Answer honestly or be punished.”

 

One of his hands flew to the collar on his neck. “T-that wasn’t a lie!” Tom futilely defended, glaring at Tord.

 

“You’re not a very good liar,” Tord said and suddenly, Tom felt a cool tip press against his pelvis, taking all but a few moments for Tom to realize the Norwegian was writing on him.

 

“Wait, what are you writing?” Tom protested as Tord moved to his inner thigh.

 

“Maybe I could take a picture and show you,” Tord suggested, not bothering to hide how smug he was. “Not right now, though.” He moved to Tom’s other thigh.

 

“You’ll use it to jack off, I’m guessing?” Tom mocked, which earned a quiet laugh from Tord.

 

“Probably.”

 

Tom sighed just as Tord removed the marker from Tom’s skin. He knew he’d probably regret this when he was sober, but... “As long as you don’t show it to anybody.”

 

Tord’s head shot up, eyes widening in surprise. “Really?”

 

“Yeah, but you have to promise,” Tom said, trying to keep the anxiety from making his voice shake.

 

Tord’s face softened for a split second before returning to his shit-eating grin. “I promise I won’t show it to anybody.” He tossed the marker aside and squirted some lube onto his hand.

 

Tom watched hungrily as the Norwegian rubbed the lube into his cock and Tom’s eyes fluttered just a bit from excitement.

 

Hey, it wasn’t Tom’s fault that Tord’s stupid fucking cock looked thick and veiny, with a little bit of pre-come dribbling off the side and god, he felt really warm just looking at it.

 

“You don’t have to stare at my dick every time I whip it out, Tom.”

 

Tom glared at Tord. “Would you just fuck me already, you stupid fucking commie?”

 

Tord shifted, hand on his cock as he led it toward Tom’s entrance. With that, he slowly pushed inside.

 

And Tom means _slowly._

 

He felt an angry whine on his lips, barely holding it back as he glared at Tord. “You’re honestly such an ass.”

 

“You’re honestly _drunk_ off your ass,” Tord shot back, though he was looking a little flustered. Noticing Tom’s angry stare, the Norwegian leaned over and gently flicked his nose. “Hey, you asked me to fuck you slowly.”

 

“That’s not fair. You know I was lying.” Tom rubbed his nose, scrunching up his face. Tord was completely inside of him at this point.

 

“So you admit you were lying?” Tord began to rock into him at a steady pace, a stupidly pleased smile plastered onto his flushed face as Tom let out a grunt.

 

“If I ‘admitted’ it, would you act- hahh.” Tom let out a little moan, eyes squinted in pleasure. “Actually... f-fuck...”

 

“I dunno, you seem to be enjoying this,” Tord responded, speeding up his pace right up against his sweet spot and good Jehovah, that felt wonderful.

 

But it wasn’t enough.

 

He wanted— no, scratch that, he _needed_ Tord to stop being such a huge dick and needed Tord to just hurry up and fuck him already!

 

“More,” he growled out after a moment, rolling his hips back in time with the gentle thrusts.

 

Tord was panting just a little bit, Tom’s mind mumbling ‘hot’, which he covered up quickly with mental insults directed at Tord. “Yeah? What’s the secret word?” Tord teased, tracing a finger over Tom’s lips.

 

“Seriously, commie?” Tom spat in response when the finger was off his face, glaring at Tord with a passion. “Begging? Didn’t know that was a kink you had.”

 

“Well, are you gonna indulge in my kink or what?” the Norwegian replied with no hesitation, slowing his pace and _god_ did Tom want to slit his throat.

 

Tom spread his legs as far as the couch would let him, hiding his smile when he noticed Tord perk up. “Tord, I actually just want you to fuck me right now. Please?” Tom tried.

 

Tord let out a deep chuckle and oh gee, that was kinda hot. “That was pathetic, Thomas. Can’t you do better?”

 

Tord wrapped his hand around Tom’s cock as he continued to rock into Tom, and he was seeing stars. “F... ah... fuck me like mean it, you st... stupid fucking commie.”

 

“Really, you suck this,” Tord said, all movements stopping, Tom letting out in irritated whine.

 

“I want you—“ he gave Tord the biggest glare he could muster— “to fuck me hard and fast. Is that too much to ask, Tord?” he snarled and Tord flashed him that same shit-eating grin.

 

“I guess I can do that for you,” Tord teased before leaning in really fucking close to Tom, so close it made him uncomfortable. Then, Tord was pressing his lips into Tom’s as he bucked hard into the tight heat.

 

Tom could’ve sworn his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his mouth opened slightly as Tord moved from his lips to his chin, down his neck and those kisses were soft and gentle and Tom didn’t know he could love kisses so much.

 

The kisses, however, didn’t match his pace.

 

Whatsoever.

 

Tord was jackhammering into him and god, he felt like he was in heaven. One of Tord’s hands were in his hair, the other gripping his hip tightly while Tom wrapped his hands around Tord.

 

Then, Tord sunk his teeth into Tom’s shoulder, on the opposite side of the previous bite. He was arching his back, clutching Tord’s sweatshirt with a passion, biting back a loud moan.

 

Tom could feel the heat pooling in his stomach, but apparently, Tord beat him to the punch. Tom felt the familiar feeling of warmth filling him, then Tord pulling out and backing up, Tom letting his arms fall to his side as he glared at Tord.

 

Then, Tord had his phone in hand and Tom heard the snap and he realized Tord had just taken a picture of him. He could feel the ire building up inside of him but he reminded himself that he had given the Norwegian permission.

 

He felt a hand wrap around his cock and in a few pumps, Tom was coming.

 

Using his other hand, Tord unhooked the collar that was around Tom’s neck, placing it on the coffee table.

 

Panting, Tom rolled over onto his side. “Where did... did you put my pants?” Tom asked, placing a hand underneath him and lifting himself up into a sitting position.

 

Tord reached down from the couch and grabbed all of Tom’s extra clothing, tossing it to the British man.

 

“Thanks,” Tom mumbled, pulling the sweatshirt over himself. Then, he grabbed the rest of his clothes. “Turn on the fucking light,” he slurred, tired and still drunk.

 

Not bothering to question the order, Tord did as he was told as Tom shakily stood.

 

He gave Tord one last glance as he said, “Have a good night, commie.”

 

God, what a weird way to end a night of sex.

 

“You too, Jehovah’s Witness.”

 

With that, Tom tugged his sweatshirt over himself and rushed out of the living room and down the hallway, almost tripping with every step.

 

He practically ran into his room, closing his door behind him and collapsing on the bed.

 

He knew he’d have to take a shower, but... not right now.

 

_DING!_

 

Tom looked up to his nightstand. He sat up and grabbed his phone, glancing at the screen.

 

_Image sent by Tord_

Furrowing his eyebrows, he quickly opened the text message.

 

He was met with a picture.

 

Of himself.

 

White come was dribbling out of his pink hole, his cock still erect and a lewd look on his face.

 

Plus, he had very... _crude_ comments written on his skin.

 

On his left thigh, ‘filthy whore’ was written.

 

On his pelvis, ‘PROPERTY OF TORD’ was written.

 

On his right thigh, ‘cumslut’ was written.

 

His face was on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay before the funny thing,,, y’all can request what you want to see next. I’m willing to repeat stuff too(e.g. I bring in the collar again— OH FUCK I FORGOT TO TAKE THE FUCKING COLLAR OFF  
> ok I’m back, I fixed it, like I was saying, you guys can request what you want to see next, thanks
> 
>  
> 
> so  
> I had about 3,000 words, both just came, and Tom was going to ask Tord where tf he put his pants  
> so I go up and look at what I’ve wrote to see what I said about it  
> turns out he never fucking took off his pants and it’s three am someone help me  
> (also, one of my friends made a pun.  
> my friend: that was kinda... _screwed_ up  
>  me: _NATE SHUT THE **FUCK** UP_


	9. Because This is How You Solve Arguments

Tom rolled over, dangling his hand off the side of his bed. He had been awake for at least thirty minutes, staring at the ceiling, beyond hung over. His aching stopped awhile ago. Of course, it had been a week since Tord had taken that fucking picture of him— yes, he was still mad! To be honest, the anger spun from embarrassment.

 

Not that he would tell Tord that.

 

He knew Tord would keep the picture to himself, though. That was something he was sure of; the Norwegian may be a lying dickhead, but he kept his promises.

 

He glanced over to his nightstand. The clock read an ungodly _5:37am_ and a small growl of annoyance left his throat. Sitting up, he began to stretch.

 

A moment later, Tom was sliding off the bed, shaking gently. His vision dotted and he realized, yes, he should probably eat. First, he wanted to go and check the mirror to see if the bite marks Tord had given him were still visible. He hated wearing his sweatshirt tight, preferring it to be loose, but the more Tord marked him the more he had to tighten his hoodie.

 

He remembers the first time Tord gave him a shit ton of hickeys. He panicked and whipped his phone out, texting one of his female friends.

 

She had responded almost immediately, telling him to ‘get your ass over here and tell me the deets, baby’.

 

Why he was friends with her, he didn’t know.

 

The most important part was that she showed him how to use make-up to hide the hickeys, even going so far to give him the make-up she used.

 

Anyway, he had walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him whilst thinking. He didn’t have his sweatshirt on, just his ASDF shirt, so his neck was exposed.

 

By the looks of it, the bite marks had completely faded. He let out a sigh of relief, caressing his neck and shoulder. He turned and opened the bathroom door, hand rubbing against one of his eyes.

 

He began to hurry back into his room, only to stumble back when a door flew open and hit him in the face.

 

“Oh, crap. Are you okay?”

 

Tom glanced up at Edd, pressing his palm against his forehead. “Sadly,” he muttered, shaking off the stinging pain.

 

“Hey, so, are you gonna join Matt and I on the grocery trip? I know you haven’t been coming for the past few weeks, but I just wanted to ask...,” Edd trailed off, watching Tom intently.

 

And not be alone with Tord in the house? “Yeah, I’ll come.” He nodded in acknowledgment.

 

Edd’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

 

Raising an eyebrow, he said, “Mhm. When are we leaving?” He let out a soft yawn.

 

“Preferably when it’s _not_ six in the morning,” Edd joked in response. “But, uh, yeah, we’ll probably leave around six, so you have some time. We’re gonna go to the movie theatre afterwards, so we decided to go late. But, go back to bed or something; you look really tired.”

 

Tom scoffed. “I am really tired.” Then, he passed Edd quickly, heading back into his room.

 

Closing the door behind him, Tom collapsed on his bed.

 

In a matter of moments, he fell asleep.

 

 

 

Tom sat at the kitchen table, tapping his fingers on the table impatiently. Matt was finishing up his breakfast while Edd and Tom waited for him.

 

“Tord?”

 

“Hmmm?”

 

Tom glanced up to watch the conversation as Edd asked, “Are you coming to the store and theatre too?”

 

Tom almost groaned at the question, silently begging Jehovah himself to have Tord say no.

 

Instead, he was met with a loud, “Sure, why not!”

 

Edd grinned, his eyes brightening at the answer. “Great.”

 

Tom fought back the urge to slam his head against the kitchen counter as he stood. “Is Matt done yet?” he asked as he glanced at the ginger.

 

Matt nodded vigorously. “Let’s go!”

 

Edd grabbed his keys as he left the kitchen, heading toward the front door.

 

Matt bounded after him as the other two reluctantly followed. Tom could hear the ginger shout, “I call shotgun!”

 

Tom felt a moment of panic and he was scrambling toward them. “But I don’t want to sit next to Tord!”

 

“Too bad! I already called shotgun!” Tom was a foot behind Matt as he barreled out the door. He debated whether or not to slam the door on Tord’s face for a split-second, but the Norwegian appeared there too quickly for Tom to take action.

 

He slowed down, accepting defeat as Matt opened the front left door, hopping inside. Tord pushed past him, almost making Tom fall. Immediately, he began to sneer, but didn’t say anything to start a fight.

 

Instead, he opted for walking to the left, opening the car door and hopping inside.

 

“Alrighty, guys! Make sure to buckle up,” Edd said cheerfully as Tom slammed the car door shut, pulling the buckle around him a moment later.

 

He let out a sigh. Tord glanced at him for just a moment an Tom wondered if he should throw his head back and retaliate.

 

He just closed his eyes and waited for the car ride to be over, hoping for peace.

 

Instead, all he got was Edd piping up, “So, you two seem to not fight as much anymore. What’s happened?”

 

Tom stilled, flaring up in panic.

 

Tord, the commie bastard, decided to answer for both of them.

 

“Maybe Thomas decided to finally grow up.”

 

Tom immediately whipped his head around and spat, “Maybe Tord decided to finally learn how to _shut the fuck up.”_

 

He heard Edd sigh as Tord bit back, “Maybe Thomas learned to to forgive and forget.”

 

The sneer on his face was unmistakable; he was pissed. “Maybe Tord learned to not manipulate people!”

 

Tord was glaring at Tom, growling, “I didn’t manipulate shit!”

 

“I beg to differ!”

 

“Then beg!”

 

_”Enough!”_

 

Both of them shut up, though their anger had not been diffused.

 

“And I thought your guys’ relationship was improving!” Edd continued. Tom began to look out the window, shrinking back. “You two better not make a scene at the store, let alone the theatre!” he threatened.

 

Tom huffed out a ‘whatever’, but Tord assured Edd no such thing would happen.

 

 _Always such a crowd pleaser,_ he thought to himself.

 

The rest of the car ride went without incident, despite the loud chattering from Edd and Matt.

 

The loud call of ‘we’re here!’ startled Tom, and he flew up from the little daze he was in. Taking a moment to shake himself off, he unbuckled and exited the vehicle.

 

He was hit with the smell of fresh pavement, crinkling his nose in disgust.

 

Trailing being the trio, Tom began to glance around. It was getting late, almost six thirty, and the sun was almost completely set.

 

The doors slid open and Tom had to pick up his pace so he wasn’t left behind. Edd grabbed a cart before tossing his head toward Tom and Tord.

 

“Go grab Frosted Flakes, you two. And don’t even think about starting a fight!” he warned, Matt nodding in unspoken agreement.

 

It seemed like Edd was done with their shit today.

 

Tom twirled around in the opposite direction, his pace fast as always. “Roger that,” he heard Tord say, followed by the Norwegian hurrying to catch up with him.

 

Not wanting to wear out the Norwegian(he mentally laughed at that insult), he slowed his pace just a bit.

 

“You know, you’re in an exceptionally bitchy mood today,” Tord commented, waving his hand dismissively.

 

Tom could feel the anger boiling inside of him, but Edd’s warning flashed in his mind, so he forced himself to calm down. “You just have that ability on me, don’t you?” he responded curtly, crossing his arms.

 

They turned into the cereal aisle; empty, like three fourths of the store. For a moment, Tom thought their argument was over, but that peace was broken. “No, but, like, you’ve been _extra_ bitchy. Is it because of the pict—“

 

Tom spun around, grabbing the collar of Tord’s hoodie. In the blink of an eye, their noses were touching as Tom snarled, “Yes! Is that surprising? I was _drunk!”_

 

Tord scoffed and Tom could feel his cheeks reddening with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “You’re always drunk. Plus, you said I could.”

 

“That doesn’t mean I don’t have the right to be pissed about it,” he said, watching as Tord narrowed his eyes.

 

Then, the Norwegian closed them for a split-second too long to be a blink. “Look, I’m sorry. But you just look _so cute_ when you’re filled with come.”

 

Tom let out a noise of embarrassment with anger mixed in, his eyes widening. Then, he began to wonder if Tord was going to kiss him, because the Norwegian was staring down at him with that stupid cocky smirk.

 

The thought made him panic and he was pushing Tord away from him, turning around and taking up a brisk pace toward the Frosted Flakes.

 

The rest of the shopping passed in a blur; Tom avoided Tord the whole time and Edd seemed to notice the tension, but he didn’t say anything.

 

Then, they were all loading in the car in what felt like a minute later.

 

“What movie are we watching?” Tord asked, breaking the silence.

 

“Some horror movie that Matt suggested,” Edd responded. You couldn’t tell by the looks of it, but Matt actually liked scary movies. So did Tord. Edd seemed okay with them.

 

Tom... eh, not so much.

 

“But Thomas is a scaredy-cat!” Tord teased, turning to face Tom.

 

He smiled very meekly, too uneasy to say anything. “Guess I’ll have to distract myself,” he joked, but his words seemed dry.

 

“What, are you gonna jack off during the movie?” Edd asked with a snort, resulting in Tom’s face bursting into flames.

 

Tord began to laugh, and through his laughter, said, “Y-yeah, he just finds the rotting demon so hot he gets— he gets a boner!”

 

“When was that in the cards?” he asked, crossing his arms. He listened to the roar of laughter from his friends. The joke didn’t seem all that funny to him.

 

“Oh, we’re just messing around, Tommy! Stop being so sensitive!”

 

Tom huffed, choosing to ignore the damn Norwegian.

 

He fell into a kind-of daze; no thoughts entered or left his mind. They had entered the movie theatre, gotten their tickets, but Tom was still out of it.

 

Then, he was snapped to attention when Edd asked him, “Yo, Tom, whadya want to drink?”

 

_Alcohol._

 

“Just a bottled water,” he said. The guy at the concession stand nodded, asking Edd a question.

 

God. He hated horror movies. Fuck that, he hated jump scares. He hated that everybody else liked them and he had to go so he didn’t feel left out.

 

Ugh.

 

“Theatre eight to the right,” the man chirped once again, and Matt was handing Tom his water as they left.

 

He trailed behind them by a foot, clenching the water bottle. They entered the eighth theatre, Tord glancing back as he held the door open for Tom.

 

Scurrying in, he glanced around before slowing his pace to let Tord pass him. The Norwegian gave him a confused look but didn’t say anything. Tom glanced around the theatre and saw nobody; the four of them would be alone.

 

A shiver ran down his spine for just a split-second. He ignored it.

 

They all settled down into their seats. Tom was on the right, the commie Tord next to him, the oblivious Matt next to Tord, and Edd next to Matt.

 

The movie started with that god damn creepy intro, and Tom rested his head on his hand.

 

He wasn’t paying attention to the movie, not one bit. Of course, he still jumped at the loud noises, and tensed up when the main character first saw what was apparently the demon. God, he didn’t know.

 

Then, a hand pressed against his outer thigh and Tom immediately jolted, his eyes turning white with surprise. He glanced at Tord because that hand _definitely_ belonged to the Norwegian, but he had his eyes trained on the screen.

 

He shifted shifted so the hand he was resting against covered his mouth. If he knew anything about Tord, it was that the communist would take this farther.

 

You bet your ass Tom was right. The hand began to rub his thigh very slowly, making its way toward his inner thigh. Gently biting at his finger, he tensed.

 

Tord’s hand slid to Tom’s crotch and he bit down a little harder as the Norwegian began to press his hand down.

 

Tom twitched subtly, holding back the urge to push himself up against the hand.

 

Tord fucking squeezed him and Tom let out a quiet gasp, the Norwegian fixing him a smug look. He glared at him, but didn’t say anything to make Tord stop.

 

Oh, god.

 

What if Edd or Matt looks over?

 

Rather than push the hand away, Tom opted to accept the rush of embarrassment. The thought of almost being caught— actually, fuck that. The *chance* of being caught made Tom’s stomach just a little bit hotter.

 

He was uncomfortably hard at this point, the tip pressing against the zipper and Tom mentally cursed. He had to get off soon, with or without Tord’s help.

 

A scream from the speakers echoed through the theatre, causing Tom to jump and the hand to retreat.

 

He could easily pretend he was too scared to watch.

 

A perfect idea.

 

Shoving his sweatshirt over his hard-on, he unsteadily stood and began to remove himself from the theatre.

 

As he was rushing to leave, he heard a soft, “I think he got too spooked.”

 

That was followed by Tord saying, “I’ll go coax him back into the inside. If he doesn’t want too, I’ll stay with him.”

 

Tord’s footsteps were behind him, but he kept his brisk pace. He was around the corner, almost to the doors, when Tord grabbed his hood and pulled him back.

 

He grunted slightly at the feeling, then Tord had him pressed against the wall, the Norwegian hovering over him. Tom’s hands were pinned above his head, and Tord’s other hand was cupping his face.

 

“You seriously decided to rile me up while we’re watching a damn horror flick?” he hissed, keeping his voice quiet.

 

Tord let out a low chuckle that sent shivers up Tom’s spine and goosebumps that swallowed his skin. “You didn’t seem to mind it. What, do you have an agrophilia kink or something?”

 

His face reddened even further because, maybe he fucking did, but Tord didn’t have to humiliate him for it.

 

The Norwegian leaned down so his nose was pressing against Tom’s and his hand that wasn’t holding Tom was back at his crotch.

 

Since he couldn’t escape Tord’s grip, he began to bite his lip as the Norwegian pressed his hand against his clothed cock. He didn’t bother to hold himself back, rolling his hips into the touch.

 

Tord pushed his mouth up to Tom’s ear and murmured, “You’re so eager, aren’t you?”

 

Tom didn’t know what else to do other than let out a whimper, Tord pressing a kiss into his ear.

 

“I didn’t bring lube, so I won’t be able to fuck you. Is that okay?” Tord backed up and began to look into Tom’s eyes, so he turned his head away.

 

“Yeah, but what about Edd and... Edd and Matt?” he asked, tilting his head.

 

“The movie’s got another hour left at the least, and I told them I’d stay with you,” he explained, letting go of Tom’s wrists.

 

Tom wrapped his arms around Tord’s neck. Within seconds, Tord was kissing Tom and grinding against him, causing him to let out a groan against Tord’s lips.

 

One hand was rubbing Tom’s hair and the other one slipped under his sweatshirt and shirt, gripping at his waist, nails digging into his skin.

 

Tom broke the kiss off, pushing Tord back and off of him.

 

“Everything okay?” Tord murmured quietly, concern in his voice, almost making Tom sick to his stomach because Tord wasn’t supposed to care about him.

 

He was unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, Tord following suit has he tugged the jeans and his underwear off.

 

Tom glanced down at Tord’s cock and realized the Norwegian was only at a semi, causing him to narrow his eyes in slight frustration. Grabbing Tord by the hoodie, he pulled the Norwegian closer.

 

By the looks of it, Tord almost tripped but steadied himself by placing his hands on the wall behind Tom.

 

Tom took a deep breath because he had never led in a situation like this; it was always Tord who took control. This time, however, the Norwegian wasn’t doing anything.

 

So, he pushed their cocks together and began to rub them gently.

 

Tord let out a grunt, surprised, as Tom gasped in pleasure. The Norwegian had a hand on each side of Tom’s head, preventing escape.

 

Not that he wanted to, anyway.

 

His eyes fluttered closed as Tord began to kiss his chin, trailing up to his mouth and then they were kissing again, but this time it was much more heated. Tord’s hands were in his hair, on his waist, cupping his cheeks, and just touching Tom in general. He wasn’t sure whether he liked it or not, to be honest.

 

Heat began to pool in his stomach, threatening to flood. He let out a whimper against Tord’s lips, and the Norwegian began to smirk, so Tom sped up the pace. He tensed at the feeling, breaking the kiss as he threw his head aside, he sputtered, “T-Tord, I’m gonna come.”

 

Tord hummed in understanding, finally taking the lead as he replaced Tom’s hand with his own. Tom whined out in appreciation before covering his mouth with his hand.

 

It took all but two seconds for Tom to reach his peak, Tord’s pace not slowing for a second.

 

Then came the torture because even though he was done, Tord wasn’t, and the Norwegian continued to rub their cocks together. Tom didn’t say anything or push Tord away. Instead, he began to writhe beneath Tord, wanting to let the Norwegian finish.

 

He did just that a few moments later, signaled by the hitch of his breath and the stilling of his body.

 

They sat there for a moment, basking in each other’s exhausted breathing.

 

“I guess we should go clean ourselves up, hmm?” Tord cooed the moment he got his breath back. Tom didn’t say anything, just nodded his head in agreement.

 

This was gonna be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright fuckers, I have a plan  
> next up is bondage, which is gonna include the whole package; tying up, orgasm deprivation, etc, etc, then let’s do mother fuckin’ tentacles because wattpad people are kinky as fuck, apparently  
> god it’s three am and my alarm for the first day for school is in two hours ;)  
> kill me


	10. tWo sHoTs oF vOdKa

The four had been at the mall— nothing new, just a decision for a shopping spree. Edd had been blabbering about how he had saved enough to buy some expensive, noise-canceling headphones that he had been idolizing. Matt wanted to buy another mirror or two(or five). Tord mentioned buying some anime DVD’s.    
  
Tom didn’t need anything, so his options were following one of the three; he chose Edd, of course.   
  
The idea had been quickly shot down.   
  
“You should go with Tord, actually.”   
  
“What?!” Tom had whined, not bothering to disguise his disgust. “He’s probably going to get hentai or some shit!”   
  
“I was going to get Sailor Moon, asshole. Anyway, I’m with Tom on this,” Tord piped up.   
  
Edd shrugged. “You guys suddenly started getting along again after the movie last week. I figured you two could try and keep the streak up.”   
  
Tord snorted while Tom blushed and his eyes widened, quietly muttering, “Lies.”   
  
“Listen, you two don’t have a choice.” Edd’s tone was disapproving as his glare slid across the both of them. “We’re meeting up at the food court. _Do not split up.”_ _  
_   
With that, Edd turned around and stalked away, Matt hurrying off as well.   
  
“Dicks,” Tord grumbled, turning to Tom. “We’re going to the top floor. Come.”   
  
The Norwegian was already moving before he finished his sentence, seemingly wanting to get it over with.   
  
Tom silently agreed with the notion.   
  
Tom’s shoes pushed off the floor as he hurried to catch up to Tord.   
  
There were a lot of people at the mall today— it was noticeable. The place was crowded, Tom almost losing Tord a couple of times. People were shouting or simply engaging in (very loud) conversations. A spike of anxiety hit Tom as he wondered if he was going to get separated from Tord.    
  
He really didn’t want to be left alone in the mall.   
  
The thought made him rush forward even more, falling behind Tord— how did the Norwegian walk so fast, anyway?   
  
He scowled as he stepped onto the escalator, barely finding room behind Tord as he thought, _It’s because of his stupidly long legs._ Not that Tom was short or anything. (He was 5’7! That’s not short, Edd! That’s about average!) He discarded the thought a moment later, shaking his head gently.   
  
Then, somebody stepped up beside him, and Tom let out a shuddering breath of panic as he glanced at Tord.   
  
_ What if you lose him?   
  
What if you get separated?   
  
What if someone blocks you from him? _   
  
He reached out toward Tord’s sweatshirt, only to twitch back in hesitation.    
  
Ironically, Tord decided to look back right at that moment. He raised an eyebrow, Tom’s face reddening as he attempted to pull his hand back.   
  
The attempt was futile, of course. Tord grabbed his hand, tugging Tom gently up the escalator until they were on the same step.   
  
Tom looked away from Tord’s gaze, expecting the Norwegian to let go of his hand and start mocking him.    
  
Instead, he squeezed Tom’s hand as they stepped off the escalator.   
  
Tom nervously glanced around, clutching Tord’s hand a little tighter.   
  
Somebody brushed past him, almost making him stumble backward. He shot a glare at the person, happy to feel irritation instead of panic rising in his throat. The person didn’t look back, just continued on their path.   
  
Tord began to rub his thumb soothingly across the base of Tom’s hand. His shoulders relaxed just a tiny bit, less tense but still on alert.   
  
“Don’t worry.”   
  
Tom looked up at Tord, but the Norwegian wasn’t looking at him.   
  
“I won’t let you get lost in here, okay?”   
  
Tom’s breathing slowed and only then did he realize the shallowness of his breaths.   
  
_Trust Tord,_ his mind yearned, the thought silently scratching against his skull, pleased with the silence and calming of his anxious thoughts.   
  
“Okay,” he whispered, forcing his shoulders and facial expression to relax.   
  
Tord must have superhuman hearing or something because he squeezed Tom’s hand in reassurance.   
  
God.   
  
Who knew he was so weak.   
  
They were out of the hoard in a minute, Tom settling for a sigh of relief. He loosened his hand, Tord following suit as they slipped away from each other.    
  
“Sorry. That was, uh... probably weird.” He made sure not to meet Tord’s gaze.   
  
“It’s fine.”    
  
Tom glanced back at the crowd of people as they entered the store.   
  
The atmosphere immediately loosened; Britney Spears’ ‘Toxic’ played and the walls were a dark gray. Not to mention, it wasn’t very crowded(probably because it’s a weeb store).   
  
Tord motioned him over to the back of the store, and Tom followed but at a much slower pace. It smelled like fresh vanilla. He glanced at one of the Deadpool posters on sale, then to the headphones with cat ears on them. Was that a katana hanging on the wall?   
  
What kind of store is this?   
  
He glanced around and noticed that Tord was nowhere in sight. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion.   
  
He was now alone in this store.    
  
Well, that’s what he thought.   
  
Somebody grabbed his shoulder and Tom had a flare of panic, twisting around with wide eyes.   
  
“Woah, calm down,” cooed an overly sweet voice, which, frankly, made Tom more freaked out. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Alec.”   
  
Tom took a moment to look up and down at Alec, involuntarily scrunching up his nose. Alec was awkwardly tall and his voice was scratchy like he smoked a pack a day, but he smelled like asphalt.   
  
Then again, he was probably being overly rude, so he forced his muscles to relax.    
  
“I’m Tom, and it’s okay,” he replied, smiling up at Alec. The man’s eyes brightened just a little too much at his response, but Tom mentally waved the thought off.   
  
“Did your boyfriend ditch you or somethin’?” he asked, motioning over to the area Tord had disappeared to. His voice seemed dangerously low, but it was probably because he was a nice guy.   
  
After a moment of processing, Tom realized who Alec was talking about, his face flushing. He snorted to cover up his embarrassment. “That guy? My boyfriend? No way,” he said, mind flashing to his previous... _events_ with the Norwegian.   
  
Then, Alec purred out, “Good.”   
  
Yeah, Tom definitely felt uneasy around this guy. He took a step back.   
  
Then again, all Alec was trying to do was make sure his ‘boyfriend’ wasn’t being an asshole.   
  
Rather than turning to find Tord like he should have, he let out a small laugh and said, “Yeah.”   
  
“So, if he’s not your boyfriend, then how come you were holding hands?” Alec asked and Tom felt a flare of embarrassment.   
  
Alec’s eyes were boring into him, obviously angry, and Tom opened his mouth to respond, unsure of what to say.   
  
“It’s weird for two guys to hold hands when they’re not together,” Alec snapped and in between the embarrassment, Tom was confused because, _why did he care? He only just met Tom. What was his problem?_   
  
Then, the warm feeling of an arm wrapped itself around his neck, dangling off his shoulders. He almost began to panic when Tord’s smooth, accented voice made itself heard.   
  
“Maybe you should mind your own damn business, _Scott."_   
  
Tom glanced up at Tord and realized how pissed the Norwegian was. He then looked back at Alec— no, Scott.   
  
What the fuck?   
  
“Tord,” Scott growled in his gravely voice, taking a step backward.   
  
Tord leaned forward, careful to keep his arm around Tom, his voice merely a whisper as he said, “Thomas is _mine._ Get your dirty ass away from him.”   
  
Scott’s eyes widened only to return to being narrowed. “Whatever. Have fun with the douchebag, Tom.” With that, Scott turned tail and abandoned them, Tom letting out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding.   
  
After a moment of (awkward) silence, Tom said, “What the hell?”   
  
Tord sighed, not moving his arm from Tom’s neck. “That was Scott. World-renowned pervert and, frankly, creepy as fuck. He’d probably fuck a blender if it was in this store. Stay away from him. He did the same exact thing when Edd tagged along.”   
  
Tom blinked. “Yeah, that sounds fair.”    
  
Tord tightened his grip around Tom, leaning down. The Norwegian’s breath ghosted over Tom’s ear as he said, “I was being serious, though. You belong to me. Don’t let anybody else touch you.”   
  
It took a moment for Tom to register what happened, Tord already walking toward the cash register.    
  
“Huh?”   
  
  
That had happened yesterday on Saturday. Today is Sunday, obviously, which meant Edd and Matt were out to get groceries. That usually means it’s time for his weekly fuck, but...   
  
Tord hadn’t made any moves and Tom was _irritated._ Irritated and in anticipation. Especially after how hot Tord acted yesterday— who knew possessiveness could be so sexy?    
  
He let out an annoyed sigh as he rolled off the bed, stretching his arms. If Tord wasn’t going to please him, he might as well get drunk. Well, that and he was going to (try and) tease the Norwegian.   
  
He needed his weekly fix; withdrawals aren’t nice.   
  
Opening his door, the sound of the television made itself heard. He rolled his eyes, stepping out of his room and down the hallway. Just as he always did, Tord was watching another documentary.   
  
He pushed himself out into the living room. Tord’s head snapped up to attention, and Tom perked his eyebrows up just a little as he glanced at the Norwegian. Then, he turned his head back toward the kitchen. He was still watching Tord, however, as he silently thanked his mother for giving him his black eyes.   
  
Tord’s stare cut though Tom’s defenses as he fought off goosebumps. He forced himself to focus on his feet hitting the carpet and _not_ Tord’s burning gaze.    
  
When his feet touched cool tile, he knew he was free from Tord’s insistent staring. He saw his newfound freedom as a chance to relax. Muscles slowly unwinding, he let out a yawn. He reached for the flask that was in his sweatshirt pocket as always, then toward the cabinet. He opened it, grasping an open Smirnoff bottle. He set it down on the counter, flask still held loosely in his hand.   
  
Said object clattered against the floor a second later as a pair of arms wrapped themselves around Tom’s waist, forcing him to jump as a result.   
  
“Calm down, my little spitfire,” Tord purred in his ear, flushing their bodies together.   
  
“The hell do you want?” he said back, placing his hands on Tord’s arms.   
  
”You’re very eager today, yes?” he asked, removing his arms as he turned Tom around.   
  
“I’m no such thing,” Tom replied with a shrug.   
  
“Oh, my love, I beg to differ,” he teased, pushing their bodies together once again.   
  
Now trapped in between Tord and the counter, he bit back, “Is this some kinky medieval role play shit?”   
  
“Well, I don’t know, but I think hearing you scream ‘master’ would be pretty nice.”   
  
“Oh my god, shut up!”   
  
Tom’s face was burning as Tord laughed at him, the Norwegian throwing his head up as his shoulders shook.   
  
Tom let out a huff as the laughter ceased. “Are you done mocking me?” he growled, glaring at the asshole that trapped him.   
  
“Why are you so eager today, hmm?” Tord purred, pressing his crotch against Tom’s, forcing a little gasp to escape.   
  
Hoping Tord didn’t hear the noise, he spoke. “It’s no fun to force your partner into a withdrawal.”   
  
Tord let out a little snicker. “Does that mean you’re addicted to me?” he asked, pressing a kiss against the corner of Tom’s lips.   
  
“It’s not nice to put words in my mouth,” he replied dryly, only to feel Tord’s mouth gently trace against his jawline.   
  
“Then can I replace the words with my tongue?”   
  
Tom let out a sputter of incoherent words as Tord threw his head back, laughing. “That was just about the stupidest thing you’ve ever said!” Tom said the moment after his embarrassment died down, letting out a laugh himself.   
  
“Well, on a more serious topic... I want you to do me a favor.”    
  
Tom tilted his head. “Your favors usually involve embarrassing me.”   
  
Tord let out a husky laugh that sent shivers down Tom’s spine. “This time is no exception.”   
  
He sneered at the delightful response. “That’s not very comforting,” he replied, looking up at Tord’s smug face.   
  
Tord ignored him, leaning forward so their lips were mere centimeters apart. “Let me tie you up.”   
  
He froze. “...what?” he asked after a moment of silence.   
  
Tord backed up just a bit so he could bring his intense stare toward Tom, the Brit immediately looking away. “I want to tie you up so I can have my way with you,” Tord cooed, bringing up his hand to grab Tom’s chin. “Would you let me do that, my little spitfire?”    
  
“I— uhm— what the hell would _I_ get out of this?” he asked as Tord titled his chin to face forward. Tom’s face began to burn even harder as he met Tord’s gaze.   
  
“Pleasure?” Tord leaned back toward Tom’s ear. “A good fuck? That’s what started this all, didn’t it?”    
  
Tom shuddered involuntarily, letting out a huff. “Let’s just get this shit over with.”   
  
Tord grinned. “Good choice, Thomas.”   
  
“Don’t call me that.”   
  
Letting out a chuckle, Tord grabbed Tom’s hand as he backed up. “Let’s go. I have rope back in my room.”   
  
The Norwegian tugged on Tom’s hand, the latter letting out a deep sigh. “Anything I should know beforehand?” he asked as Tord led him through the house’s rooms.   
  
“Well... have you ever been tied up before?”    
  
Tom blinked, thinking back to a previous girlfriend. “Once or twice, yeah,” he admitted, shrugging gently.   
  
Tord shot him a glare and it took Tom all but a few seconds to realize it was full of possessiveness. “Really?” he asked curtly.   
  
Tom perked his eyebrows, a hint of smugness entering his voice as he said, “Are you jealous?”   
  
Tord scoffed. “My ‘jealousy’ will only contribute to how I treat you,” he said in a low, gravely voice, his grip tightening.   
  
“Is that a threat?”   
  
“Only if you want it to be.”   
  
Tilting his head to the side, Tom curiously watched Tord. “You’re being unnecessarily vague.”    
  
“Is that so?” Tord said, sounding far away. Despite his apparent bored attitude, he began to squeeze Tom’s wrist tighter and tighter.   
  
Tom cringed in pain. “T-Tord, you’re hurting my wrist,” he hissed, tugging his hand back.    
  
The Norwegian turned back at him and blinked, slowly loosening his grip before sliding his hand away. Tom gripped the bruising skin lightly. “Sorry.”   
  
The air hung heavy around them as Tord opened the door to his room. Tom felt his heartbeat quicken as he realized why he was here.   
  
He had agreed to let Tord tie him up.   
  
He had agreed to let Tord take control of him.   
  
What the fuck did he agree to and _why?_   
  
Closing the door behind him, Tom glanced around the familiar room. He furrowed his eyebrows at the thought, grabbing his bare arm. He shouldn’t be familiar with the Norwegian’s room at all.   
  
Tord’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.   
  
“Strip.”   
  
The room went still.   
  
“What?” he asked after a moment of silence.    
  
The Norwegian exited his closet holding thin rope, an irritated look on his face. “Ya know, strip? Like, take all of your clothes off? Are you deaf?”   
  
Tom tensed in irritation. “Don’t be such an ass. What’s your damage?” he hissed as he unbuttoned his jeans.   
  
“I’m angry because I wanted to be your first for everything,” Tord growled, not facing Tom. “It’s unfortunate for you that it’s not the case.”   
  
Tom pulled his jeans and briefs down, letting out a huff of annoyance. “Surely you couldn’t have thought...” Tom trailed off as he gripped the hem of his shirt.   
  
Tord turned around at the sudden silence.   
  
Tom had his eyebrows raised a bit, the corner of his lips twitching.    
  
“Well? Are you gonna take that shirt off or what?” Tord tossed the rope on the bed, arms crossed. Tom bunched up his shoulders more, refusing to meet Tord’s gaze.   
  
Tord let out a deep sigh, walking forward as Tom scrunched up even further, eyes closing.   
  
“Tom.”   
  
“Do I... do I have to?” he asked, squeezing his shirt.    
  
“Look at me,” Tord rumbled, gently grasping Tom’s chin and forcing it up.   
  
Tom very slightly opened his eyes, eyebrows furrowed.   
  
“You can’t hide that pretty little body from me forever, you know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss against Tom’s forehead.    
  
“Fine.” He took a step back, escaping Tord’s grip. He pulled his shirt off in a quick motion.    
  
Tord grabbed Tom’s already bruised wrist, forcing him closer. “See?” he purred, releasing the wrist. “What a pretty little body.” He ran his left hand up Tom’s waist, his other on Tom’s cock.   
  
“Stop talking,” he huffed, one arm covering his chest, the other on Tord’s shoulder. His face was red, eyebrows furrowed from pure embarrassment.    
  
Tord cocked his head to the left, grin wide. He moved his hand up from Tom’s waist to his hair, running his fingers through it. “I’m afraid you’d have to pay for my silence,” Tord joked before pressing his lips onto Tom.    
  
Then, Tom was released.    
  
“Alright, now sit down, criss-cross apple sauce,” Tord ordered nonchalantly.    
  
Tom snickered. “What are we, in kindergarten?” he asked jokingly, though he did as he was told.   
  
“Ageplay is far too kinky, even for me,” Tord replied, turning around.    
  
Rolling his eyes, Tom let out a soft sigh.    
  
“Arms behind your back,” Tord said as he grabbed the rope. Tom narrowed his eyes, forcing his arms to cross behind his back. He cringed, already feeling a soft ache. This would be a bitch to deal with in the morning.   
  
Tord walked behind Tom, the Brit following him with his eyes, head moving until it was stuck in place. Tord crouched down, not meeting his eyes as he roughly grabbed Tom’s wrist, causing him to wince. Harsh rope dug into his wrists as Tord pulled. Tom furrowed as he attempted to watch what Tord was doing, his neck ultimately failing him.    
  
Tord pulled away, looking smug. “Try and escape.”   
  
Tom squinted, attempting to tug his hands apart. Instead of doing what he had attempted, his hands rubbed against the harsh material, refusing to spread.   
  
“Good,” Tord purred, tracing Tom’s shoulder blade with a finger. Tom shivered at the cold finger, naturally retracting. Tord let out a low chuckle before standing up and practically skipping back in front of him.   
  
“You’re enjoying yourself way too much,” Tom said dryly as Tord sat down on his knees.   
  
“Well, you don’t seem to be hating this too much,” Tord responded, voice full of snark as he gripped Tom’s ankle. He roughly pulled it on top of Tom’s knee. “Stay,” he ordered, voice thick with his accent.     
  
Tom would never admit it, but Tord’s accent was hot as fuck.   
  
Seriously! It’s impossible to understand how hot and bothered he got when Tord spoke commands or talked dirty.   
  
Before he could continue on his mini-rant, the Norwegian returned with more rope. Well, returned is the wrong word, considering he had only walked to the bed and back.   
  
He sat down in the position he was before, pulling Tom’s leg up as he wrapped the rope and Tom’s ankle and leg. The two end pieces were tied into a knot quickly. Christ, Tord was good at this. Frankly, that scared Tom.   
  
With the other piece of rope, he pressed Tom’s knee against his foot. That was tied up quickly, too.    
  
“There we go. All nice and tied up,” Tord teased as he leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on top of his forehead.   
  
“You’re done?” Tom asked, a hint of disgust in his voice. Well, the disgust might’ve been because his cock already stood at full attention, begging to be touched.   
  
Tord’s smirk slowly morphed into a smug grin. “Not quite yet,” he purred, standing up. Tom narrowed his eyes as Tord bounced to his stupid drawer. Tom already knew what he was going to pull out. The Norwegian pulled out the drawer, and Tom was right— he had the stupid red box in his hands.   
  
That thing showed up in his nightmares.   
  
The red box was tossed onto the   
bed, Tord quickly forcing it open. Christ, that thing was the bane of his existence. Tord pulled out something that looked... strangely familiar.   
  
He focused on it.   
  
It... it was a fucking cock ring. A pink cock ring.   
  
Tord turned around with a cheerful grin.    
  
“Judging by the look on your face, I’m gonna guess you know what this is.” Tord walked forward, crouching down in front of Tom.   
  
“All too well,” Tom replied, closing his eyes in annoyance.    
  
Tord let out a low chuckle. Rather than putting it on him like Tom thought he would, Tord turned back and tossed it onto the bed. When he turned back to Tom, the Brit’s eyebrows were raised in slight confusion.   
  
He did nothing to explain himself, of course.   
  
”I’m going to enjoy this,” Tord purred, dragging his fingers across Tom’s chest.    
  
“I’m not,” Tom said, punctuated with a sigh.    
  
Tord snickered before backing up, a smug grin on his face. Then, his face suddenly snapped, eyebrows creased in concern. “For once, Tom, I’m being serious— if you need me to stop, say brownie. If you need me to slow down, say honey. I don’t want to over step your boundaries.”   
  
Tom blinked, tilting his head slightly. He soaked in the few seconds of silence before murmuring a quiet, “Okay.”   
  
Tord reached over and ran his fingers through Tom’s hair, a soft smile on his face. He gave Tom’s forehead a little kiss before standing. Practically trotting toward his nightstand, Tord grabbed the back of his hoodie and tugged it and his shirt off. Tom’s gut churned with heat as he watched the Norwegian, eyes tracing over the muscles.    
  
“Oh, Thomas,” he purred excitedly, reaching into the still open nightstand.   
  
“What?” he said spitefully, despite shiver that ran up his spine at the sound of Tord saying his name.   
  
Tord twirled around with that stupid bottle of lube in his hand. “Are you ready to have some fun?” he teased, bouncing forward as he stared directly into Tom’s eyes.   
  
Unable to handle the eye contact, Tom turned his head away. “Whatever.”   
  
Tom let out a little gasp as Tord grabbed his hair and yanked, his head tingling. “It’s not nice of you to turn away,” he growled, giving Tom’s head another pull.    
  
Defeated, Tom looked up at Tord’s power-hungry expression. Honest to god, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t scare _and_ arouse him. Being in such a vulnerable position with a guy like Tord towering over him... it’s a heated thought. It made him intoxicated with lust.   
  
He could feel his own face burning, tugging at the restraints. Eyebrows pushed upward, he tried to ignore the rush of embarrassment that was caused by Tord’s intimidating stare.   
  
“Are you done with your little bitch fit?” he snapped, giving Tom’s hair a final tug before letting go. Tom narrowed his eyes, finally out of that ridiculous trance Tord put him in.   
  
“Are you done with being an asshole?” Tom shot back as Tord placed the lube on the ground.   
  
Tord reached over and ghosted his fingers over Tom’s Adam’s apple, a smug grin on his face. “If you don’t put away that attitude, your pretty little neck will be my next toy.” He placed his hand on Tom’s neck, giving it a small, painless squeeze in warning.   
  
Tom visibly swallowed, keeping his mouth shut.    
  
Sliding his hand away, Tord let out a husky laugh. “You can be so adorable sometimes,” he said, casually walking behind Tom.   
  
“Really?” Tom asked shakily, tone deadpan, not bothering to follow Tord’s movements.   
  
The floor creaked and there was a moment of silence. Then, a pair of hands wrapped around his uncovered waist and a chin relaxed onto his shoulder. “You have no idea.” Tom shivered slightly against Tord’s touch as the Norwegian gently dragged his teeth across Tom’s neck. “I’ve practically dreamt about doing this to you.” He dragged his blunt nails up Tom’s chest.   
  
“Oh?” Tom replied, urging Tord to continue as the Norwegian placed gentle kisses against Tom’s skin.   
  
Sliding his nails lower and lower, Tord let out a soft hum. “Having you all tied up, completely vulnerable like this? It’s a sight only for me,” he purred, hand finding Tom’s cock.   
  
Tom let out a little gasp, pushing his hips into the touch. The hand immediately retreated.   
  
“Now, now, Thomas— if you can’t control yourself, I can’t have any fun.”   
  
Tom scoffed gently. “You’re sadistic.”   
  
“But you’re masochistic, are you not?” Tord placed his hands against Tom’s inner thighs, resting his head in the crook of Tom’s neck.   
  
Tom snuffed. “You could at least try and deny i— oh, fuck!” he hissed as Tord dug his nails into Tom’s thighs, dragging them upward. He looked down at the now red marks, huffing in irritation. “You could’ve given me a warning, ya know.”   
  
“Warnings are for good boys,” Tord replied, gently dragging his teeth across Tom’s shoulder. “Which you are not being.”   
  
“Don’t be such an ass,” Tom snarled back, only to snap his mouth closed when Tord sunk his teeth into his skin. Tom’s back arched as he bit his lip, sucking in a sharp breath.    
  
When Tord removed his teeth, he pressed a gentle kiss against the bleeding wound. “You need to learn how to behave.” He dragged his fingers up Tom’s stomach, earning a little gasp from him.   
  
“Fuck you,” he snapped, only to scrunch up as Tord pushed his nails into Tom’s abdomen. He squirmed gently from the touch as though he was trying to escape his restraints, pressing his lips together to prevent noise from escaping his mouth.   
  
Tord let out a husky laugh, flicking Tom’s cock gently. “You’re hard,” he mumbled, grabbing Tom’s waist and pulling the Brit onto his lap.    
  
“Congratulations, you have eyes,” Tom mocked. He didn’t fight against the grip, shuffling uncomfortably.    
  
Tord reached to grab Tom’s cock, giving it a couple pumps. Tom squirmed and let out a quiet whine under the warm touch. Tord’s smirk pressed against his back as the hand retracted.    
  
“Damnit, Tord,” he muttered as the Norwegian let out a smooth chuckle. Then, he suddenly began to grind up against Tom. Tom let out a breathy gasp at the contact, immediately pushing back.   
  
“Good boy,” Tord purred, sending a shiver up Tom’s spine.   
  
Jesus. It was just a couple of words. How pathetic of him to derive pleasure from them.   
  
Tord grabbed his hips and lifted Tom up slightly, shifting out of the way. Tom turned around as he was placed back on the ground, watching hungrily as Tord unzipped his jeans. Biting his lip, he rolled his hips into thin air as the Norwegian pulled his jeans down, revealing his cock.   
  
Christ, he could memorize that thing.   
  
Tord reached over and grabbed the lube, seeming unaware of the insistent staring from Tom. He placed the bottle by his side, turning back to Tom. He perked an eyebrow when he noticed Tom staring, grabbing the Brit by his love handles and pulling him closer, placing his knees under Tom’s bare skin. Now, he was vaguely lifted, enough for Tord to get inside him, at least.   
  
Tord casually coated his fingers with lube with a lazy grin. Turning back to Tom, the Norwegian gave his shoulder a little kiss. Then, he pressed three fingers inside of him.   
  
Tom let out a little gasp; definitely wasn’t expecting that much at once. He rolled his hips back into the touch.   
  
“You know, I don’t even need to do this anymore,” Tord hummed, dragging his nails against Tom’s back. “You’re getting loose. You’re getting _used_ to me.” Tord spread his fingers inside of Tom, eliciting a noise from the Brit.   
  
“What does- what does that mean?” he growled. When Tord dug his fingers into Tom’s sweet spot, his resolve immediately weakened, letting out a soft whimper.   
  
“Oh, it wasn’t an insult,” Tord promised, resting his head on Tom’s shoulder. “I’ve just fucked you so much, you’ve grown used to me.”   
  
“Fuck you,” he hissed, struggling in his restraints.   
  
“Was that a demand or an idiom?”   
  
“...yes,” he replied, grinding down onto the fingers. Tord huffed with laughter, Tom inhaling sharply.    
  
Tord pulled his fingers out of Tom, earning a soft whimper of displeasure.    
  
He expected to have Tord’s thick cock spreading him open, but that feeling never happened. In fact, Tord moved away from Tom, the Brit gently placed back on the floor.   
  
“Tord?” he said, following Tord with his eyes as he walked in front of Tom.   
  
“Yes?” Tord purred playfully, face full of malice. Tom narrowed his eyes, but remained unblinking. Tord moved forward, his cock almost pressing against Tom’s lips. What the hell is with the communist and blowjobs?   
  
“You’re a dick,” he spat, but opened his mouth nonetheless. Tord’s face rippled into an evil grin, shifting to press his cock against Tom’s lips.   
  
He gently placed his mouth around the head, swirling his tongue around it. Tord let out a low groan, spurring him forward. He let about half of Tord’s cock slide down his throat, pausing for a break, until Tord gripped his hair and pushed Tom forward. He began to gag, attempting to pull back.    
  
Tord continued to hold on his head in place, despite Tom’s consistent squirming.   
  
When he finally stopped struggling, Tord let out a low laugh. Tom furrowed his eyebrows — he still wasn’t the best at deep throating, considering he had only done it once before.    
  
Before he could do anything, Tord pulled Tom’s head back. He was expecting Tord to completely release him, but it seemed like the Norwegian had different ideas. He snapped his hips and dug his cock into Tom’s mouth. Tom began to hum gently, watching as Tord shivered in pleasure.   
  
“You like being face-fucked, don’t you, slut?” Tord purred. Tom’s stomach dropped from pure excitement.    
  
Wow, that’s... that’s really dumb. He really did not want to believe he thought it was hot to be called ‘slut’.   
  
Finally, Tord removed his cock from Tom’s throat, watching as a coughing fit seized the Brit’s body.   
  
Once Tom had gotten his breath back, he looked up and glared at Tord. “You’re far too big to shove your dick down my throat without warning,” he growled, though his voice was far too scratchy to be intimidating. Tord scoffed, pulling his jeans and boxers off of him, kicking them to the side.   
  
“Was that a compliment?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Tom scoffed, watching as the Norwegian turned around.   
  
“You wish I would compliment you,” he replied, following Tord with his eyes as the Norwegian reached to grab something from the bed.   
  
Wait.   
  
Fuck. Tom knew exactly what it was.   
  
Tord turned around, a sly grin on his face, holding up that ridiculous fucking cock ring.   
  
Tom let out a whiny hum, eyebrows furrowing with annoyance.   
  
Lifting an eyebrow, Tord stifled a laugh. “That was adorable,” he commented as he returned to Tom, crouching down.    
  
Tom practically hissed, watching as Tord slid the cock ring on. Once it was fit firmly, the Norwegian pulled back with a grin.   
  
“You’re just the cutest thing ever, all tied up like this,” Tord purred, grabbing Tom’s chin and pulling his head closer.   
  
Tom narrowed his eyes. “I’m not cute,” he snapped, glaring at Tord. The Norwegian leaned in closed until his mouth was positioned right next to Tom’s ear.   
  
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re just _adorable,”_ Tord cooed, tracing Tom’s bottom lip with his thumb. A shiver ran up Tom’s spine at the feeling, retracting from the touch. “I have a request, Thomas,” Tord said with a hum as he ghosted his fingers down to Tom’s neck.   
  
“And what may that be?” Tom asked dryly, tilting his head to expose his neck to to Tord’s touch.   
  
Tord grabbed Tom and turned him around, pulling the Brit into his lap. How he managed to do that, Tom didn’t know. Tom was 165 pounds, after all — Tord must be pretty strong. With his defined muscles, though, it wasn’t all that hard to believe.    
  
Tom shivered at the feeling of Tord’s lips gently gliding across his neck. “Let me paint your neck purple,” he requested, trailing his fingers up Tom’s spine.   
  
What? Tord already gave him two or three hickeys when they were just having regular sex— so why was he asking now?   
  
Unless... maybe he wanted to _completely_ cover Tom’s neck in hickeys.   
  
Christ. Could he handle that?   
  
“Tom?” Tord asked with a hum, breaking Tom’s train of thoughts.    
  
Tom let out a deep sigh. “Fine,” he muttered, “just don’t make me regret it.”    
  
Tord smirked against Tom’s skin, slowly kissing his neck. He trailed down Tom’s neck, only to drag his sharp canines against the area where Tom’s neck connected into his shoulder.   
  
The Brit’s back arched as Tord bit into his skin, a sharp gasp escaping him. Pain sparked in the muscle, sending a hot wave of fire over him.    
  
When he was released, Tord let out a low laugh, littering the poor boy with red marks. Tord wrapped his hands around Tom’s waist, flushing their skin together. As Tord bit down once more, Tom let out soft whimper and reached down to grip the Norwegian’s hands.   
  
Tord pulled away, chuckling as he intertwined their fingers. “You like the pain, don’t you?” he purred, kissing the now bleeding marks. “You dirty little whore.”   
  
Tom’s stomach jumped in pleasure as he sucked in a tight breath. “Fuck you,” he grumbled as Tord continued to kiss Tom’s neck, all tongue and lips after the harsh nip.    
  
He was rubbing the base of Tom’s hand, smiling with delight. “You just want to be filled with a thick cock, don’t you?”   
  
Tom scoffed and began to grind down against Tord, a smirk crossing his face when the Norwegian let out a gasp of pleasure. “ _You_ just want to be inside me, don’t you?” he mocked, only to bite his lip.   
  
He definitely wasn’t expecting a hand in his hair, roughly pulling his head to the side, followed by teeth pushing into his skin and _holy fucking shit, that hurt._   
  
“Shit, Tord,” Tom growled out when Tord’s excessively sharp teeth were pulled out of his skin, the Norwegian already returning to his previous goal. He was terrified of looking at himself when this was over. He’d probably look like a damn plum!   
  
Tom shivered when Tord’s breath ghosted over his skin. “Learn your place, Thomas,” he growled, digging his nails into Tom’s waist.   
  
Tom bit his lip, refusing to say anything to Tord. The Norwegian huffed angrily, yet he continued to press his kisses into Tom’s neck.   
  
As Tord slowly made his way up to Tom’s neck, the Brit sighed.   
  
“You’re purposely being slow, aren’t you?” he asked dryly.   
  
“Yep,” Tord resounded cheerfully,   
  
“You’re a bitch.”   
  
“Maybe so, but you’re _my_ bitch.”   
  
Tom snorted. “Enough of the jokes, you’re ruining the moment. Just fuck me already, would ya?”    
  
Tord’s lips froze on Tom’s neck. “Was that a hint of begging I heard?” He moved his hand, hovering over Tom’s cock before slightly rubbing his thumb across the slit.   
  
“Oh, my god, you kinky _asshole_. Yes!” he hissed, sucking in a breath.   
  
He was on _fire_. Sweat dripped off of his skin, his stomach warm with lust. Every nerve in his body was begging for release, but Tord _refused to fuck him._   
  
Tord didn’t respond, rubbing circles across the tip of Tom’s cock. He continued to kiss Tom’s neck gently. _Slowly._   
  
“Tord, _please_ ,” he whined quietly, rocking his hips into Tord’s touch.   
  
Tord had an undeniable grin on his face. Tom’s voice sounded so lovely, cracked and shaking. He gently moved his other hand from Tom’s waist to Tom’s chin, tracing the Brit’s lips with his thumb. He was breaking Tom’s will and _god_ , was it hot. He licked his lips before breathing out a quiet, “Louder.”   
  
Tom shivered at the feeling of Tord’s thumb, quietly cursing at how sensitive his lips were. Fucking google it if you think he’s being unrealistic. Personally, he wanted to punch Tord, but that probably wouldn’t help him out.    
  
Fucking hell.   
  
” _Please_ ,” he whimpered, “Tord, I—“ His words got caught in his throat, embarrassment coursing through his veins.     
  
He ached for some form of release— anything to end the onslaught of need. Part of him was ready to break, to release a side of him that Tord would hold over his head forever. So, he knew he’d have to bring himself to a new low.   
  
“I need your cock,” he pleaded, voice sweet and quiet, biting at his lip.   
  
Tord’s eyes and grin widened in pure delight. For a moment, he debated on making Tom beg even more, but Christ, that would be cruel, even for him. Poor Tom looked like he was on the verge of crying.   
  
Not to mention, Tord hadn’t completely trained Tom yet. The Brit was one of the hardest toys he had the pleasure of breaking.   
  
He stood, moving to his nightstand, opening it.   
  
“Tord?” Tom said meekly, sounded oh, so beautiful and weak.   
  
“One second, baby, and then I’ll fuck you,” he promised, pulling out a knife. No, he wasn’t going to cut the boy. That would be cruel and abusive.   
  
“Hurry,” Tom begged as Tord turned around, returning to the Brit and sitting on his knees. He quickly cut the rope off of Tom’s legs, a smug smile sneaking up his face when he saw the beautiful rope burns. He tossed the rope away, sliding the knife under his bed so they wouldn’t step on it after they were done.   
  
When he looked back at Tom, the Brit had his legs spread open, panting. Tord bit his lip at the sight. “On your knees,” he ordered. When Tom gave him an unsure glance, he grabbed Tom’s hair and pulled back slightly. _”Now.”_   
  
Tom did as he was told, not having the energy to fight back. Tord has managed to keep his hand in Tom’s hair the whole time, shoving the poor Brit’s face into the carpet. No words were exchanged as Tord grabbed the lube, somehow managing to squirt some onto his hand whilst the other was holding Tom down. He quickly rubbed it against his cock, letting out a breathy noise as he did so.   
  
Then, he shifted, wiping the rest of the lube against the rim of Tom’s hole.   
  
“W-wait, aren’t you going to untie my hands first?” Tom asked, slightly struggling because his face was pushed against the carpet. “And what about the cock ring?”   
  
“You look _far_ too pretty for me to do that,” Tord responded with a grin, pressing the tip of his cock against Tom’s hole. “And I think I’ll keep that on for just a little bit longer.”   
  
“W-wa—“ Tom cut himself off with a moan as Tord slid inside him, unable to do anything but roll his hips against Tord.   
  
Tord only paused for a moment before setting a normal pace, a grin on his face.   
  
Tom was breaking. Slowly, yes, but he was. Tord couldn’t help the excitement flowing through his veins at the thought of Tom begging for more under him.    
  
That was the main thing he wanted out of this whole experience—   
  
To make Tom, his enemy, the man he’s despised since the beginning, beg for Tord to fuck, whip, hit him— God, he wanted Tom to want Tord to hurt him.   
  
Christ, he really _was_ a sadist.   
  
Tom’s walls were clenched around his cock, forcing Tord to let out a groan of pleasure, speeding up his thrusts.   
  
“God, you’re such a whore,” he growled, pushing Tom’s face further into the carpet, lips twitching.   
  
He loved how cute Tom was. Everybody thought the Brit was nothing more than the loner act he put on, but Tord knew. Tord knew there was much, much more.   
  
“Tell me what you are,” he ordered, eyes widening with malicious intent.   
  
Part of him wanted Tom to stay quiet. It’d give him an excuse to punish the Brit.    
  
Yet, another part wanted Tom to obey— he wanted Tom to understand that Tord was above him.    
  
_”Tell me what you are,”_ he repeated, speeding up his thrusts as he watched Tom, no doubt enjoying this.   
  
“A whore,” Tom whined out, eyes closing. He looked so pathetic beneath Tord; his face burned red, mouth open as he panted desperately. It all made Tord so very warm.   
  
Tord dragged his other hand down Tom’s waist. “Good boy,” he purred, leaning down slightly to find Tom’s cock. He slid off the ring, watching as Tom arched his back and let out a gasp.   
  
“Thank you,” he whined. Tord bit his lip, jacking Tom off as he rammed into the poor boy. “T-Tord, I’m gonna come.”   
  
Tord sneered, removing his hand from Tom’s cock. “No,” he growled, sliding his hand to Tom’s back.   
  
“Wh-what? Why n...not?” Tom asked in between moaning, tears sliding down his cheeks. He let out a delightful gasp as Tord raked his nails down the Brit’s back.   
  
“You can’t come until I do.”   
  
Tom whined out something unintelligible as Tord watched him. He couldn’t help but love how adorable Tom looked beneath him. Tom was covered in sweat and tears, his shoulders, ears, and face flushed a deep red. His eyebrows were pushed up his forehead, half of his face pushed against the carpet.   
  
They were fucking on the floor like animals, and Tord _loved it._   
  
He loved how Tom’s walls clenched around him, the tightness forcing a groan out of him. He loved how Tom’s hair felt in his hand, each strand rubbing against his palm as he pushed Tom down. He loved how his nails made red marks down Tom’s back. He loved how Tom looked under him.   
  
Christ, he loved—   
  
Before he could finish the thought, he shoved himself as far into Tom as he could, spilling his load inside of the Brit.   
  
“Please, you’ve came,” Tom cried, Tord blinking as he looked down.   
  
Tears were streaming down Tom’s face, and Tord couldn’t help but feel pity at the torture he was subjecting Tom to. So, he slid out of Tom, breaths sharp.    
  
“On your back,” he ordered rather gruffly, backing away from Tom, hand slipping out of the Brit’s hair.   
  
Tom did as he was told, but Tord could tell he was struggling. Scoffing, he lifted Tom slightly, giving him a perfect view of the poor, poor boy.   
  
He let his hand run down Tom’s chest, stomach, stopping at the boy’s lower abdomen.   
  
Tom whimpered out Tord’s name and Tord’s name alone, causing Tord to blink in surprise. Tom had never moaned out his name, and _god_ , was it hot to hear.   
  
“Well, I guess I can give you what you want,” he purred, his hand on Tom’s cock. His other hand went to Tom’s hole, slipping three fingers inside of the Brit.   
  
Tom whined as Tord jacked him off _and_ fingered him, shoulders scrunching up.   
  
Then, he came in Tord’s hand, gasping for breath.    
  
Tord released Tom, standing. He moved over to the nightstand, grabbing a tissue and wiping his hands off. When he turned back around to face Tom, the boy was still laying on the ground, panting desperately with his eyes closed. Tord grinned, scrunching up the tissue and throwing it into his wastebasket.    
  
He crouched down next to Tom, reaching for the knife under his bed. “Sit up.”   
  
Tom did so, but rather slowly. He didn’t say anything as Tord cut the rope, sliding the material off Tom.    
  
He stood once more, grabbing the cock ring. He placed the knife on the nightstand, grabbed another tissue, and put the cock ring on the tissue and put it next to the knife.   
  
Ugh.   
  
He grabbed the red box next, opened his nightstand and sliding it inside, letting out a deep sigh.   
  
When he turned around once more, he expected Tom to be gone. However, the Brit was still on the ground, panting.   
  
Tord felt something that made him somewhat sick. He felt... worry.   
  
Gross.   
  
He moved back over to Tom, getting on his knees and wrapping his arms around Tom’s waist, smiling when the Brit jumped.   
  
He placed his head on Tom’s shoulder. “You alright, Thomas?”   
  
Tom nodded; no verbal response, apparently.   
  
Tord pursed his lips slight, eyebrows creasing in concern. Perhaps he had gone too fast; after all, he was Tom’s first. So, he asked, “Was it too much?”   
  
“No. Just... tiring.” Tom shook his head.    
  
Tord chuckled. He slipped one hand away from Tom, reaching over and hooking his arm under Tom’s knees, the Brit letting out a noise of protest.   
  
Then, Tord stood, Tom hurriedly wrapping his arms around Tord’s neck so he wouldn’t fall.    
  
“I can walk!” Tom protested as Tord moved over to his bed.   
  
“No, you can’t,” he disagreed, moving over the blankets before placing Tom down. The Brit quickly scrambled into a sitting position as Tord joined him, pulling the blankets over them. “Stop being a little bitch and calm down,” he growled as Tom glared at him.   
  
Then, the Brit sighed, eyes closing. “Just for a couple of minutes,” he grumbled, laying back down.    
  
Tord scoffed, pulling Tom closer as he wrapped a hand around Tom’s neck. He grabbed his phone from his nightstand, opening it with one hand. He sent Edd a quick text.   
  
_ ’When are you coming home?’ _   
  
When he took a glance at Tom, the poor boy was fast asleep. Tord’s heart fluttered at the sight, smiling softly.   
  
Oh, how adorable Tom looked in his arms. So sweet, eyes closed and a kind look on his face.   
  
Tord couldn’t understand why he found Tom so cute. It was _weird._   
  
He remembered how protective he had gotten with Tom after Scott tried to talk to him. He should’ve expected it; Scott had cornered Edd and questioned the brunet as well. After Tord beat the shit out of Scott for... certain reasons, the little bitch went after anyone who entered the store with Tord.   
  
Shit. He was getting off track.   
  
The point is, he had gotten so... _protective_ with Tom. He felt the urge to protect and care for Tom.   
  
He had never been concerned for one of his toys before. It made him sick.   
  
Nonetheless, he did worry for Tom. He worried for the boy far too much.   
  
Then, his phone vibrated with a text.   
  
_ ’Matt and I went out to lunch, so give us. like. an hour.’ _   
  
Tord sighed, taking a glance at Tom.   
  
He’d wake Tom up in twenty minutes. That should give Tom enough time to get up and dressed before Edd and Matt returned home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally got this fuckin chapter done,,, i know, i know, all y'all are probably like, "what the fuck inhumane it's been like four fuckin months"  
> and my answer???  
> uh. i don't really have one.  
> okay but give me a break,,, this chapter is over 7,000 words okay???  
> and i've been like. super busy with school. and i have almost zero motivation b/c my health, mental and physical, has just. gone down the drain *dab*  
> and it's hella hard to write smut. which is weird b/c that's what i always right but guys, c'mon. i am a teenage asexual girl. g i v e m e a b r e a k .  
> but! i have been writing with a chick i call peaches, y'all should check her out, she's on wattpad by the name blue.toffee  
> i love her she's my platonic wife  
> yeah that's it, i don't think i had anything else to add. just remember, tentacles are next, and feel free to write a comment if you're up to it, because they make my day.  
> inhumane, out.  
> p.s. one more thing. i really hope this was up to the person who asked for orgasm denial's standards??? i've never written it before,,, i'm sorry


	11. what the FUCK, richard????

"Happy birthday, Tord!" Edd called out excitedly as Tord entered the kitchen, eyes shining with excitement.

"Happy birthday!" Matt added on, leaning on the kitchen counter with a tilted head.

Tord rolled his eyes at the almost exact time Tom did, ignoring the two as he walked toward the fridge. "You guys know I don't really celebrate my birthday, right?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean we can't celebrate _for_ you," Edd teased.

"You guys have this conversation every single year," Tom mumbled, leaning back in the kitchen chair as he watched the trio in front of him chat.

"It's a tradition," Matt said, waving his hand dismissively. Tom rolled his eyes once more, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Boredom bit at the back of his mind; he needed something to do other than listen to the idiots that he loved (no homo) chat/bicker. Same thing to him, honestly.

Edd laughed gently, shifting, ready to drape his arm across Tord's arm.

Of course, the poor brunet was cut off when Tord said, in a monotone voice, "Touch me and I cut you."

Edd and Matt paused. The ginger raised his eyebrow as Edd let out a snicker, pulling his hand away. Tom lifted his head slightly, growing curious at the lack of words.

Then, Edd said, "Isn't that something Tom says?"

Tom did his best to keep his face deadpan as he watched the scene unfold around him. Matt chipped in, too, saying, "Yeah, I heard Tom say that yesterday."

Tord scoffed, shaking his head as he pulled out a gallon of milk from the fridge. "We kinda live in the same house, contrary to popular belief. It's only natural I gain some of what he says."

"Yeah, but! You've never caught one of his catchphrases before. Are you spending more time with him?" Matt cooed, obviously hinting to the Sundays when Tom and Tord refused to come to the store.

Tom was up next, ready to save his dignity. "Don't even think about that. Like, for the love of Jehovah, I've just been playing Susan a bit more than usual; practicing a new song."

"Yeah, about your newfound love for Tord?" Edd teased, letting out a yelp when Tom threw a nearby pen at him. "Wow, getting defensive much?"

Tom sighed, crossing his arms after placing his phone back in his pocket. "Bet you'd wish for me to get defensive, wouldn't you?"

"Well, I dunno, Tom, but you sure haven't been fighting with Tord as much as usual. I'm starting to think this is one of those cliche 'rivals fall in love' kinda thing, huh?" Matt said with a slight laugh.

Tom? Fall in love with _Tord?_

Tom's cheeks began to heat up at the thought, looking down at the floor. He was about ready to speak up and defend himself.

Naturally, Tord cut him off before he could say a single word.

"Jeho _wishes_ I'd fall in love with him."

Alright, now Tom's cheeks were burning red with anger and embarrassment.

"Don't be such a dick, Tord," Tom spat, watching as the Norwegian grabbed a clean glass from a cabinet.

"Oh~ does Tom have a crush on Tord?" Edd teased, moving from his spot next to Tord, practically skipping up to Tom. "Tord, won't you accept Tom's undying love for you?"

Tom's cheeks were getting brighter and brighter as time dragged on, waiting for Tord to respond, as Tom physically did not have it in him to defend himself.

"Tom can suffer through his love. Give him hanahaki disease or something."

"What-- what is hanahaki disease?" Matt asked, obviously growing curious.

Tord poured milk into the glass before placing it back in the open fridge, closing the door. "It's a fictional sickness where a person coughs up flower petals if their 'undying' love is unrequited." Tord rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his milk.

"Well, damn, guess we're lucky it's fictional, huh, Tom?" Edd teased, only to let out a pained gasp when Tom elbowed him in the stomach.

"If I have a crush on Tord, I will go to my room and stab something. Preferably myself."

"Well, _that's_ a big mood."

Tord let out an offended gasp. "You'd stab yourself because you have a crush on me? That's sad! I thought I was your friend." The Norwegian pouted like an idiot.

"I am not your friend," Tom muttered, a bit of anger slipping into his voice.

"Alright, let's stop teasing Tom for a bit," Matt interrupted. Tom silently thanked Matt, the ginger sending him a pitiful glance as Tord and Edd laughed. "Do you, like, wanna do anything for your birthday, Tord?" he asked curiously, staring up at Tord with his bright, green eyes.

Tord scoffed. "A great idea for my birthday is to have the house to myself for like... five hours." He waved his hand. "But you guys are too lame to be busy that long."

"I'm sorry, was that a _challenge_?" Edd asked, narrowing his eyes as he turned his head from Tom to Tord.

"It's not a challenge. It's the truth."

Edd crinkled his nose, glancing at Tom and Matt. "Do you guys wanna catch a movie then go out to eat? We can leave this fool alone."

"Sure," Matt agreed, smiling slightly.

Tom was about to join the bandwagon, too, the words ready to spill from his mouth. However, Tord gave him a quick glance, his eyes darting to look Tom straight in the eyes.

Oh, that fucker had something planned, didn't he?

"Well, I would, but I was already planning to go chill with one of my other friend's today," Tom said, the lie quickly slipping off his tongue without a second thought.

Tord's grin grew wider the moment Tom caught on. Of course, he didn't say anything; nothing to give them away.

"Wait, you have _friends_?" Edd asked mockingly, moving to cross his arms. "And you're choosing them over us?"

"Come on, we planned this last week, give me a break," he mumbled, rolling his eyes at them. His cheeks were still red, which he was trying his best to hide. How lame.

Matt snickered as Edd shambled over to the ginger, pouting. "I thought you loved us."

"Nah," Tom said, waving his hand dismissively.

Matt laughed harder as Edd whipped his head around to glare at Tom, acting oh, so offended. "You can go live with your _other_ friend, then! Come on, Matt, let's ditch these losers." He gripped Matt's wrist and began to drag the ginger away, letting out a laugh of his own.

Tom watched the two flee down the hallway, waiting for some form of signal that they left.

The garage door opened then closed a bit later.

Then, silence.

Tom looked over to Tord, raising an eyebrow. "Alright, unless I totally misread you, the hell do you want?"

Tord abandoned his half finished glass of milk, practically skipping over to Tom. "It's my birthday. I figured I was allowed to have fun." He let out a low chuckle, wrapping his arms around Tom's waist and digging his face into Tom's neck, breathing deeply.

"Yeah, but you and I have very different definitions of fun," Tom grumbled, tilting his head as Tord began to litter kisses along his neck.

"Awh, don't be so lame. I'm sure you'd enjoy yourself, but..." Tord paused, removing himself from Tom. "Let me pick you up."

Tom immediately snapped his head up at Tord, eyes narrowing. "I hate being carried."

"I don't care, I want to carry you anyway. It's my birthday!" He pouted.

Damn idiot.

Tom couldn't help but snuff indignantly. "Fine. But you're not allowed to drop me."

Tord let out a cheerful laugh, hooking his arm under Tom's knees and arms, picking him up. Hurriedly, Tom wrapped his arms around Tord's neck, eyes still narrowed.

Tord began to walk toward his room, humming a cheerful little tune. The noise was somewhat eerie in his ear; he didn't enjoy hearing Tord so carefree. The Norwegian almost always had multiple defenses up. So, he finally said, "What are you planning to do to me this time?"

Tord laughed, pressing a kiss against Tom's forehead. "Well, it's kinda a secret, but now we're gonna have to have a special safe word. Just this once. Well, that's if you don't ask for more." Tord grinned like an idiot, obviously excited.

"Tord, you're... you're kind of scaring me." Tom glared up at Tord, lips curling up into a slight snarl. "What is your special safe word?"

"It's 'release'. That's all-- just release. Is that okay, min kattunge?" Tord purred into his hear, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

Oh, wow. Norwegian was hot.

"Yeah, release is fine," he said, trying to ignore the blush creeping up his neck.

Tord let out yet another laugh, setting Tom down on the floor. They had reached Tord's door, it seemed.

The Norwegian pulled it open, grabbing Tom's sweatshirt sleeve and pulling him inside. "I think you might get a little bit freaked out at first, but I know you'll enjoy it," he said with a hum, stopping in the middle of the room. "Alright, do me a favor and close your eyes. No peeking or I swear to god, I will beat the shit out of you."

Tord's voice was excessively menacing, causing Tom's eyes to widen, flinching.

The only thing he could do was nod.

He hadn't been expecting Tord to threaten him; sure, they've fought and thrown a punch or two, but never had it been along the lines of 'beating the shit out of you'.

"Good boy," Tord purred, throwing Tom out of his thoughts as he ran his fingers through Tom's hair. "Now, close them."

Tom nodded, finally relaxing a little bit as he closed his eyes, covering them with his hands-- just in case.

He waited for a few moments; he heard shuffling, but that was about it.

Then, there was the noise of a metal door opening.

Tom jumped when two hands met his wrists, pulling his hands out of his face. "You can look now, Thomas," Tord said into his ear as he began to push Tom forward.

Tom did as he was told, eyes flying open.

Was-- was this a lab?

"Don't ask any questions-- we haven't even gotten to the main attraction yet!" Tord said cheerfully before Tom could say anything.

Tom was pretty sure he saw some nuclear barrels as Tord dragged him up a small set of stairs, still humming a joyful song.

They passed the large 'KEEP OUT' metal door as Tord took a left, Tom still looking around the place in astonishment.

Holy hell.

Of course, the thoughts were wiped from his mind as they entered a brand new room, Tord letting go of his sleeve and closing the door behind him.

The only thing in the room was a comfortable chair and a little purple plant in the middle.

"Uh... what am I supposed to do?" Tom asked, dumbfounded as Tord moved over to sit on the chair, a sleazy grin on his face.

"Just go over and check out the plant. And remember the safe word."

Tom furrowed his eyebrows, glancing between the two.

Okay, this definitely gave him a bad feeling. Goosebumps had formed on his skin as he took a few tentative steps forward, still unsure.

"Why am I doing this again?" Tom grumbled, mostly to himself as he took up a normal walking pace.

"Because it's my birthday," Tord said, his voice echoing through the room.

Tom tossed his head over to Tord, glaring at the Norwegian as he finally reached the plant. Sure, it wasn't that far, but Tom was bad at time telling.

Whatever.

The plant was purple.

Actually, was it even a plant?"

It stood up from the ground; it stood completely still as he took it in.

It was a dark purple, almost like lavender. He tilted his head slightly, somewhat interested in the strange thing. The poor thing was curled over as thought it was hiding the front side of it. It seemed... slimy.

Lame.

He reached over, touching it gently.

Oh, good Jehovah, was he ready to regret that decision.

The worm-like thing whipped over, causing Tom to stumble back, eyes going wide.

Oh, fucking hell.

It was a god damn _tentacle._

The tentacle slowly moved up from the ground, the tiles practically crumbling underneath it.

It wasn't just _one_ tentacle.

No, not at all.

Many more tentacles began to spring up from the newly broken ground, Tom's mouth wide open as he stared at the creature.

He was too distracted to notice one of the slimy things curling around his leg; he was far too dumbfounded as the creature began to slowly move forward.

What the fuck.

He was whipped out of his thoughts when the tentacle wrapped around his leg lifted him up, letting out a squeal of panic. The ground began to grow slightly smaller as he was lifted farther into the air. A new tentacle slipped under his sweatshirt, causing the boy to squirm in slight discomfort. Two tentacles slid under his sweatshirt sleeve, another at the collar of it--

Oh, god, they had managed to get his sweatshirt off.

Apparently, his shirt was up next. Those same tentacles gripped the edge of Tom's shirt, one sliding over his face as it did so. They pulled it off, leaving the boy a sputtering, confused mess.

"A fucking _tentacle monster?"_ Tom yelled out as a new tentacle wrapped itself around Tom's waist.

One slithered against his face, peeking at the edge of his lips.

Gross, gross, gross!

A liquid that Tom couldn't identify dripped on his lips as he kept it closed, struggling slightly.

Then, two tentacles slid under the rim of his pants and briefs, pulling them off in one quick motion. Tom hadn't been expecting it, naturally, so he let out a gasp.

The tentacle lingering above his lips took the chance and shoved itself into his mouth. He gagged slightly, but it didn't bother to pull away as it explored his mouth, sliding over every inch of it, slowly going deeper and deeper down his throat.

It seemed to know its boundaries, however, as once it was on the verge of going to far, it pulled out and slammed right back in.

Oh, fucking Christ, he was being face fucked by a _tentacle monster!_

Tom shivered as he let the tentacle use his mouth, two new tentacles sliding up his thigh. Other tentacles wrapped themselves around his feet, then his wrists, straightening the boy out as the one around his waist slowly slid off of him.

What the hell was happening.

The tentacles that had been sliding up his thigh slipped across his nipples, dripping the same liquid on them as the liquid that was dripped onto his lips.

The tentacle in his mouth was still going, blocking him from seeing most. Not to mention, for some fucking reason, his lips felt ungodly sensitive under the thing's touch.

How gross.

Then, his nipples began to practically burn.

He let out a choked off moan, squirming around and trying to rid of the feeling.

Then, the two tentacles began to play with his nipples, forcing Tom to moan once more.

Oh, god. Was the liquid an aphrodisiac?

Tord had to be fucking kidding him.

Once more, he was snapped out of his thoughts as something slimy poked against his hole. He gasped through the tentacle, attempting to close his legs.

The monster wasn't having any off that.

The two on his feet forced his legs open, spreading them wide. He groaned, shivering when that same fucking liquid dripped against his hole. Seemed like it would have to work as lube, too.

Oh, this was going to be literal hell for him.

A pleasurable hell, but a hell nonetheless.

A tentacle that felt far larger than the others began to gently slip against his hole, forcing another shiver down his spine at the coldness.

Then, rather suddenly, the tentacle in his mouth stopped, pulling out and blasting a purple liquid across his face.

It was sticky, and thank Jehovah that Tom was able to close his eyes before it... came.

Was the liquid its come?

He almost choked; from the bit that had landed on his tongue, it was... unusually sweet.

Suddenly, Tom wanted more.

As he was distracted by the thought, the large tentacle pushed itself inside of him, a loud moan escaping Tom.

Then, yet _another_ tentacle shoved itself down his throat, thrusting in and out like it was the end of the world.

How lame.

Everything was being played with -- his nipples, his mouth, his hole.

If he wasn't enjoying it beyond belief, it might've been too much.

Yet, to make matters worse, a tentacle wrapped itself around his cock, covering his slit.

Fuck. Fuckity, fuck, _fuck_.

Tom moaned as the tentacles decided to change positions, spinning him around and letting his back fall more toward the ground than the rest of his body, yet his legs were still being held open and his arms held high in the air.

Tom definitely wasn't expecting the tentacle in his mouth to come yet again, this time inside his mouth.

Good fucking god, that tasted so unbelievably sweet.

He swallowed it all as the tentacle slipped away.

Finally, he was able to see the scene in front of him.

His legs were being held open as he mentioned earlier, and a rather small tentacle was over his slit.

God, did he want to destroy it.

The tentacle inside him wasn't slowing down any time soon, but he wasn't looking at the tentacles anymore.

He was looking at _Tord_.

The Norwegian was watching with a smug grin, hand on cock.

He was fucking jacking it to Tom being fucked by a _tentacle monster._

Fucking kinky bastard!

He let out another moan as the tentacle inside of him began to thrust in faster and farther, spreading him open more than he was used to.

And god, that wasn't something he'd ever consider saying, considering that Tord's cock was huge.

Then, the tentacle stilled, flooding Tom's insides with a liquid that definitely was its come.

God, the fact that his cock stood at full attention filled his veins with humiliation.

More of the purple liquid began to drip all over him. Tom was expecting that to be its finishing move.

Apparently not.

The tentacle inside of him had merely paused. It quickly resumed its thrusting after a few moments of piece, forcing Tom to let out a needy whimper as he attempted to struggle against the tentacles.

Gross. This was all so disgustingly gross.

So why the fuck was he so turned on?

He arched his back, whining as he continued to struggle. The tentacle monster apparently had enough, pushing Tom's legs against his arms, the poor boy letting out a strangled gasp at the position.

The stretching his legs fucking burned.

He loved it.

He began to roll his hips back into the tentacle's thrusts, still trashing slightly but accepting of it nonetheless.

The purple slime was dripping off his body along with his sweat, but the tentacles were releasing more on his skin than it was falling off.

So, basically, he was becoming covered in the stupid liquid.

Tom was thrown into a daze-- sure, he could feel the tentacle thrusting into him, but he had lost count of the time. He was too lost in the pleasure. Drool dripped from his lips, gasping for air. Sweat dripped off of every inch of his skin, squirming against the tentacles cool touches.

God, were they fucking touching him.

Some slid across his cheeks, others tracing themselves up his arm. Another pair was soothingly rubbing his thigh as thought it would bring him back to whatever reality he was supposed to be in.

However, it just felt _too good._

His burning skin was practically dripping off of him, melting more and more with every thrust. The tentacle inside of him was definitely hitting his prostate-- he wouldn't feel this good if that wasn't the case.

He attempted to push slightly away from the tentacles; being practically curled into himself wasn't helping the increasing heat.

He definitely wasn't expecting the tentacle wrapped around his cock to shift away from his slit, giving it a couple pumps.

Almost immediately, come began to bead down his cock as he whined, throwing his head back.

But, god, the tentacle inside of him wasn't done.

It continued to stretch him open and fuck him raw, the poor boy beginning to genuinely struggle.

Sure, he had dealt with Tord coming a bit after him, but now?

_The tentacle wouldn't stop._

Tears slipped down his eyes as he continued to rock back into its thrusts, mind scratching for what to do.

Ah, right.

The safe word.

After a few more moments of hoping the pleasurable torture would end, he moaned out a desperate, "R-release!"

The tentacles on him stopped, slowly sliding out of him. It gently set Tom down on the ground, the poor boy gasping for whatever air could enter his lungs.

A hand touched his shoulder, forcing him to jump, head shooting up.

It was just Tord.

The Norwegian was looking down at him with concern. "You alright, Thomas?"

Tom just stared at him, panting with a tilted head.

"Come on, let me start a shower for you." Tord wrapped his arm around Tom's waist, his free hand reaching over to grab Tom's clothes, forcing him to stand up.

Sadly, Tom's legs weren't in the mood to follow his directions. They shook with every step, forcing Tord to keep his arm wrapped around with the Brit.

Finally, after Tom's shuddering breaths stopped, he managed to spit out, "You're one kin--kinky bastard. Did you enjoy yourself?"

Tord couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips. "I did. Did you? You were with my little project for longer than you think."

"Longer... how long was it?" Tom's eyebrows creased in slight concern.

"Almost forty-five minutes."

Tom immediately began to cough at the answer as they exited the lab. "Forty five minutes? Are you kidding me?"

"Yeah, but you did look like you were in a daze for awhile. You sure you're okay?" Tord asked, a bit of concern slipping into his voice.

"I'm fine," Tom said with a nod as they slipped inside of Tord's bathroom. The Norwegian let him learn on the counter as he turned, moving toward the shower.

"Was it too much? Did you enjoy yourself?"

"It was _fine_ , Tord. Yes, I had fun. You don't need to be worried about it." Tom sighed as Tord started the shower.

"So... you're gonna admit you find tentacles hot?" Tord said with a mischievous laugh as he began to shed his clothes, forcing Tom to look away.

Oh, god, was Tord going to join him in the shower?

After a moment of silence, Tom found his voice. "Tentacles are, and will never be, hot." He kept his voice firm as Tord turned around to him, completely nude.

"Yeah, that's what you say now, but you were whining like a bitch in heat during it," Tord said with a snicker as he began to help Tom into the shower.

"Shut the hell up, you hentai-loving fuck," Tom snapped, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he stepped inside.

His posture relaxed as he stepped into the cool water. He had been so hot before, it felt quite nice.

But, as he looked down at the drain, his eyes widened.

He forgot he had been covered with the tentacles leftover... whatever.

"The aphrodisiacs should have worn off by now, but just to make sure, is anything sensitive?" Tord murmured, wrapping his arms around Tom's waist.

"No. I'm fine, I promise." He looked up at Tord with a tilted head.

Then, Tord began to laugh.

"W-what? Did I miss something?" Tom asked in confusion, furrowing his eyebrows.

"No, no, it's not that-- it's just, your makeup is washing off."

"Huh?"

Oh.

_Oh._

The makeup that had been hiding Tord's irritant marks were being washed down the water drain. He quickly slapped his hand over them, flushing even darker.

"No, don't hide them," Tord whined, grabbing Tom's hand and pulling it away. "I like seeing your hickeys. Reminds me of who you belong to."

"You're such a pervert!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOO,,, i got this piece of trash done if two hours AND it's a little over 4,000 words!!!!  
> i-- i want to be proud but like... it's also terrible lMAO  
> anyway i'm thinking about doing power bottom tom next b/c i don't think i got any other requests?  
> gah. i have a quiz to study for.  
> thank you for reading, and if you'd like to, leave a comment! they make my day <3


	12. an avocado??? thaaaaaaaaaaaanks

 

“Have fun shopping~” Tord cooed as Edd shot a glare at him.

Tom sighed, leaning back into the couch. Tord sat across from him. They were sticking rather far from each other. Well, sort of. They were on the opposite sides of the couch. Despite that, Tord had swung his feet on top of cushions, feet  uncomfortably close to Tom’s legs.

Well, to Tom, at least.

“I  physically do not understand why you two aren’t coming with us. It’s less fun with the two of us!” Matt pouted, crossing his arms. He leaned against Edd’s shoulder as they awaited in the hallway. They were acting as though they were expecting one of the two to change their minds.

“Hey, I’ve been working more often.” Tom threw his hands up in surrender, rolling his eyes. “You can’t blame me for that.”

“Okay, that’s actually fair, considering the fact that you’re poor.”

Ouch.

“But what’s Tord’s reason?”

“Tom leaves me alone and hides out in his room, so I  basically get the house to myself.” Tord shrugged, grabbing the remote from the coffee table and changing the channel. 

“You mean you watch Cold War and communist documentaries the whole time?” Tom asked  snarkily , not even bothering to look up from his phone as he pulled it out of his sweatshirt pocket. 

“Alright, bitch.  Just because I have the brains to try and expand my knowledge doesn’t mean you need to mock me,” Tord hissed right back. He kicked Tom's leg, though it wasn't that hard of a kick.

“If you touch me again, Tord, I will fucking cut you,” Tom growled out in warning, eyes flicking up to the Norse’s smug face. “And don’t make that facial expression. You look like an idiot. Well, then again, you always do.”

“Alright, I’m gonna break this fight up before it gets too serious. If I come back with something broken, both of you are gonna be in trouble. Got it?” Edd warned, a single hand on his hip as Matt nodded, the action vigorous.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Tom grumbled to himself. Tord saluted Edd like an idiot as the brunet turned, giving them a slight wave.

“Have fun,” he remarked, Matt following right behind him.

“Have fun!” Matt repeated, not understanding Edd’s salty tone. 

“We won’t,” Tord called as the garage door slammed shut. Tom didn’t bother to say anything, typing on his phone, fingers moving fast. His eyes flickered up to Tord the moment the outside garage door opened and closed.

Tord’s eyes  were trained on him, a single eyebrow raised. 

“What?” Tom spat, moving his phone out of the way, his back pressed against the arm of the couch. 

Tord shifted, moving closer until his shadow fell on top of Tom, towering over the poor boy.

_”What?”_ Tom repeated, eyes narrowing as he brought his already tucked in legs closer to him. Tord licked his thumb, causing Tom to immediately hiss, “If you touch me with that, I swear to god--”

Of course, his words stopped tumbling from his mouth when he wiped it on Tom’s neck, smearing his makeup.

Okay, that didn’t happen to be the complete truth. Tom used very little; the marks had almost completely faded away. They were an ugly yellow on his skin instead of the usual purple. 

“You need to wash this off,” Tord said with a hum, looking down at his thumb. “You’d look prettier, showing off all your marks.” He moved his hand out of the way, looking down at Tom with a smug smirk. 

Tom snorted, hands on Tord’s chest as he pushed the Norwegian away. “Yeah, and you’d be prettier if you didn’t talk.” He glared up at Tord, a frown covering his adorable little face. Of course, Tord wouldn’t mind if Tom wore nothing but a frown.

“So you admit I’m attractive?” Tord purred, placing a hand on each sides of Tom’s shoulders, trapping the poor boy. 

“You’d be attractive if I was into bestiality,” Tom hissed, glaring at Tord with as much intensity as he could muster. His cheeks already were beginning to warm up as Tord leaned in a bit closer.

“I see only one bitch here,” Tord purred, not bothering to  be offended from their banter. He gave Tom a gentle kiss. Tord couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows when Tom sat up, sending the Norwegian up as well. Tom pressed his lips right back into Tord’s, wrapping his hands around Tord’s neck. He broke the kiss as he climbed on top of Tord’s lap, smiling. Tord looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, interested in Tom’s rapid change in behavior.

“Can we… try something different today?” Tom requested  sweetly , head tilted as he looked down at Tord with the cutest expression.

Tord raised his eyebrows at Tom’s sudden change of attitude, wrapping his arms around Tom’s waist. “Depends on what ‘something different’ is,” he said with a shrug. “And what I get out of it, of course.” He began to trail kisses around Tom’s jawbone, listening. He didn’t have anything else to say.

“I want to try and… ride you,” Tom said, voice growing quiet as he realized how embarrassing the request happened to be. He didn’t want to show his embarrassment to somebody like Tord, so he dug his face into the crook of Tord’s neck. The action interrupted the Norwegian’s kisses.

Tord let out a snicker, shifting around so he could stand up whilst holding Tom. The poor boy let out a quiet protest, wrapping his legs around Tord’s waist. “You’re so cute,” he purred into Tom’s ear before pressing kisses against Tom’s neck. Sliding his hands down to Tom’s ass, he finally let himself hold most of Tom’s weight. Of course, the action made Tom flinch from its suggested sexualness. 

“I’m not cute, you’re  just a dick,” Tom snarled a moment later, finally finding his voice. He squirmed, removing his face from Tord’s neck to watch where the Norwegian’s steps were leading him. 

Of course, they were heading toward Tord’s room. No surprise there if he were to be honest.

“You’re as cute as a kitten, my little spitfire.” He let out a chuckle, reaching the door. Tom moved his hand from Tord’s neck to open the door, pushing it open for the two of them. 

“That makes me wonder if you want to dress me up as a cat girl,” Tom grumbled, turning back to Tord so he could glare. 

Tord set Tom on the bed before giving the boy a kiss on the nose. “If I was to be honest with you, you could  probably get out of anything by saying ‘nya’.” Tord laughed at the thought,

Tom laughed himself, rubbing his cheek, full of nervousness. “You’re such a weeb.” 

Tord grinned at him as he moved over to his nightstand, shaking his head. “I’m  just saying, I would die from how cute it would be.” He opened the drawer.

“Well then, I guess I know what my secret weapon is.” He let out a gentle laugh once more as Tord pulled out the bottle of lube.

The sight made his heart skip a beat. He had almost forgotten why he came into Tord’s room. Of course, staring at the bottle made everything come back to him.

Lame.

Tord tossed him the bottle before moving to close his door. “So, why’d you want to ride me?” he inquired as he turned back around and walked toward the bed.

Tom shrugged. “I don’t know. Something different, I guess.” He watched as Tord settled back into the bed. Tom moved as well, pulling Tord’s legs apart so he could rest  in between them.

Tord didn’t respond. Instead, he reached down and almost began to undo his jeans.

Tom could feel his eyes widen. He shot toward Tord, hands on the Norwegian’s wrists to stop him. He pressed his lips against Tord’s, relaxing when Tord gave up. His hands slid away from his jeans, so Tom loosened his grip. The Norwegian slid his hands up Tom’s arms, a bit confused.

Tom pulled away after a moment, biting his lip.

“What was that for?” Tord asked  teasingly , rubbing Tom’s arm up and down.

“ Just — let me do it, okay?” Tom said,  barely keeping his voice steady. Tord raised an eyebrow but nodded nonetheless.

Tom couldn’t help the little sigh of relief that escaped his lips. He gave Tord a quick kiss on the lips before moving back, watching Tord for a couple moments. Then, he unbuttoned Tord’s jeans and unzipped them, holding his breath. He glanced up at Tord.

The Norwegian was watching him with a smug grin.

Tom couldn’t help but narrow his eyes as he pulled down Tord’s jeans. He began to massage Tord’s cock through his boxers, eyes still latched onto him. Tord bit at his lip, watching Tom with an intense expression. He  slowly pulled down Tord’s boxers, sighing.

Okay, he was taking his sweet time with this. 

He placed his hand on Tord’s cock, rubbing it. His stomach dropped when Tord let out a grunt of pleasure. The noise only spurred him on further, kissing the top of Tord’s cock. He wrapped his mouth around the tip, swirling his tongue around the top. Tord groaned lowly as Tom let his cock slide down his throat, taking it inch by inch.

“Fuck, kitten, you’ve gotten so much better,” he praised. Tom would’ve smiled if he didn’t have a cock in his mouth, but whatever. He responded by pulling off of Tord’s cock, smiling.

“Thank you,” he purred, giving it another kiss before going right back down on it. 

Tord threw his head back and moaned, bucking his hips. Tom almost choked at the action, so he placed his forearms on Tord’s hips, keeping them down. Of course, Tord didn’t seem to notice as he murmured, “ Just like that, kitten.” The praise made him flush as he pushed the cock down as far as it could go. Tord let out another choked off moan. “You look so pretty, mouth stuffed with a thick cock.” 

Tom let Tord’s cock slide out with a pop, smiling  proudly . His usually pretty pink lips were now red. “Mmh… I’m gonna move on to something better.” He gave it a kiss on the tip, the precome following as he pulled away. Of course, that only made it that much hotter when he licked his lips. 

He unbuttoned his own jeans and pull them, along with his briefs, off. He glanced up at Tord. The Norwegian’s eyes  were latched onto him, watching. Tom almost laughed as he kicked off the clothing, but he managed to keep it from escaping.

He reached over for the lube, squirting some on his hand. Then, he moved back to Tord’s cock, wrapping his hand around it and applying the lube. His lips pulled up in disgust for a moment at his saliva, but he did his best to ignore it. The Norwegian’s eyes were still on him as he reached behind him and wiped any excess lube on himself.

His cheeks  were red as he climbed back on top of Tord. The Norwegian always kept his eyes on Tom. As Tom began to sink down on Tord’s cock, the Norwegian closed his eyes and let out a low moan. Tom huffed, biting his lip. The stretch wasn’t any different than usual, but he wasn’t used to this position. At all.

Tord’s hands began to make their way to Tom’s waist, but he caught them in his own before Tord could do anything. Tord opened a single eye to watch Tom with a raised eyebrow. “Hand holding?” he asked  mockingly as Tom released his hands. The Brit sniffed  indignantly , hands finding the edge of Tord’s shirt.

“Off,” he ordered, shifting  uncomfortably . Contrary to popular belief, having a cock inside of you that wasn't moving wasn’t exactly pleasant. Tord scoffed, moving to let Tom pull it off of him. He threw it to the side, letting his hands roam Tord’s lean chest. Then, he began to  slowly move his hips up and down.

Simultaneously , they both let out a noise of pleasure. Tom’s breath caught in his throat as he leaned down, one hand on the Norwegian’s chest, the other on his neck. Their lips met as Tom sped up his pace. Tord let out a groan into Tom’s lips, causing the boy to smile. 

Tom pulled back a moment later, hands finding Tord’s. He pulled them up roughly above Tord’s head, lips trailing against Tord’s neck. 

The Norwegian immediately stiffened, letting out a noise between a growl and a moan. “Thomas,” he warned, causing Tom to let out a short laugh.

Then, as he began to bounce up and down on Tord’s cock at an even quicker pace, he gave Tord a light hickey. Of course, his ears strained for a ‘no’ or ‘stop’—  just in case.

As expected, Tord did not seem pleased with the action.

He let out a huff, jutting his hips up in time with Tom’s. Tom let out a gasp, grinding down out of reflex.

Shit, this was sloppy as hell.

Tom resumed his pace a moment later, recollecting himself. He captured Tord’s lips on his own. The Norwegian’s tongue slid across his own as he moaned, clutching Tord’s hands rather tight. 

He could  tell that the only thing Tord wanted to do was keep his dominance and make Tom whine.

However , Tom wasn’t in the mood for that.

He  gently bit at Tord’s lip— not enough for it to bleed, but enough for it to sting. The Norski responded with a groan, squeezing Tom’s hands.

Tom lifted himself back up, heaving for breath at every thrust.  His body trembled as he began to lead Tord’s hand toward his cock, which bounced between their stomachs with every move he made . He wrapped Tord’s hand around it, letting out an ‘oh, fuck’ as he sped up his pace.

He could feel himself squeeze around Tord’s cock. The action made Tord come, Tom letting out a choked-off moan as the Norwegian finished. He continued to ride him, searching for his own release as he forced Tord’s hand up and down.

He came a moment later, gasping at the jolt of pleasure washing through him. He released Tord’s hands, looking down at him with a smug smile.

The Norwegian looked  _pissed_.  His eyes  were narrowed , cheeks flushed red. He slipped his hands under Tom’s sweatshirt, placing them on the boy’s waist. “I hope you enjoyed that,” he growled lowly, rubbing circles on the skin.

Tom couldn’t help but giggle, pulling himself off of Tord’s cock. The Norwegian helped him through the process, as Tom’s legs were a bit shaky. He sat himself down on the bed, knees under him. “Oh, trust me, I had a lot of fun.” He grinned as Tord sat up, covered in sweat.

Tord snorted as Tom reached over for his jeans. “You’re in a lot of trouble, you know.” 

Tom responded with a wink, standing up and shoving his sweatshirt over himself. “Have fun coming up with my punishment~” he said  teasingly , legs a bit shaky as he began to leave the room.

“Oh, I will,” Tord growled under his breath as Tom left the room, disappearing out the door.

Admittedly , that felt nice. It had been a long time since Tom took control, even with his ex-girlfriend. 

The thought made his cheeks heat up. Okay, if he were to be honest, his old girlfriend had been  really ,  _ really _ kinky. Her occupation in the relationship happened to be a dominatrix. 

Tom remembered how much he enjoyed it. After all, Tord must be pretty lucky that Tom didn’t mind being submissive— all thanks to her.

Well, and because he’s kinky, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so, honestly, this has to be the worst chapter i've written and it's not even 3,000 words,,, i'm really sorry,,,  
> i, uh, i've learned that i absolutely s u c k at writing power bottoms. like idek if this counts as tom being a power bottom. i tried my best though,,, i'm,,, really sorry,,, also, i'm sorry i didn't get this out yesterday,,, this chapter was, honest to god, hell to write. jesus. 
> 
> i did edit this chapter tho! usually i finish it and post it without looking back at it, so, yeah,,,,  
> but i also wrote half this chapter with a fever (don't worry, i'm okay now!) and when i was editing it i found something that made me lmao  
> "he finally let himself hold most of Tom's weight. because he's a waste of space. i'm so tired." then i continued to write w/o even noticing it,, w h o o p s  
> i have a punishment chapter up next, so get ready for some hella kinky stuff!!! and i also!! have a question *nervous laughter*
> 
> i was wondering if you guys would be okay with some chapters that aren't? smut? like if i ever did that i'd post a second chapter with the smut in it right after, but i still want to ask you guys,,, 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this trash!
> 
> Oh, and I forgot to add!!! I’m really sorry if I respond with my bunshin account— I usually don’t pay attention to that, but it is me, haha,,,


	13. yoU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE BRANDON

So, _admittedly_ , Tom had been avoiding Tord all week. Like, yeah, he had been confident when he was teasing Tord after their fuck, but now the Norwegian just seemed... pissed. Like, _hella_ pissed. Sometime after they finished fucking, Tord left the house and came back the next morning. Edd teased him about the hickey Tom gave him, but the Norse quickly brushed it off as a one-night stand.

Naturally, since Tord was such a lady’s man, Edd didn’t question it.

Still, even after that, Tord was acting like a damn bitch. He kept throwing numerous insults at Tom at the breakfast table every day. Not to mention, if Tom ever tried to pass Tord, the asshole would bump Tom’s shoulder rather harshly.

Dick.

In fear of it getting worse, Tom kept himself secluded in his room. It wasn’t that big of a deal—Edd and Matt brushed it off as one of Tom’s ‘episodes’.

Rude, but fair.

Now, however, he was lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling with absolute dread for the next couple of hours. Sadly, the day happened to be Sunday, so he would be getting his weekly fix.

Well, more like his weekly fix on steroids.

His thoughts were interrupted when that _stupid_ Norse’s voice came through the door. “Open up, Jeho. Edd wants everyone to come to breakfast, which you haven’t been doing. ‘pparently, he’s got an announcement.”

Tom groaned, rolling off of his bed. His hickeys had completely faded, so he no longer had to spend ten, maybe twenty minutes covering them up. He shook himself, calling out, “Be there in a minute.” He ran his fingers through his bed head as he grabbed his sweatshirt off his bed (he always kept it there). He slipped that and a random pair of skinny jeans on. Next, he reached for his hairbrush and tried to tame the kinks.

It didn’t take much effort, so hooray, I guess.

Finally, feeling like a kid who didn’t want to go to school, Tom trudged over to the door and opened it.

For some reason, Tord hadn’t left his doorway. Nope; he stood there with a smug look on his face.

Oh, no.

He grabbed Tom’s sweatshirt and began to tug him toward the red clad male’s room, forcing a little squeak out of Tom. Tord pulled the poor boy in front of them as they reached the Norse’s room and pushed him inside. Tord closed the door behind them before advancing Tom, hands on the Brit’s shoulders. Tom’s back pressed against the bed and his hands found Tord’s chest, glaring up at the Norwegian.

Tord stared down at Tom with a surprising amount of intensity. They had what seemed like a staring contest, glaring at each other for a solid ten seconds. Then, Tom looked away, the side of his face pressing against the bed.

Seemed like Tord won.

“Good boy,” the Norse purred, hands trailing down from Tom’s shoulder to the Brit’s pants, backing up slightly. 

“Wait, already?” Tom rushed out quickly, watching as Tord’s hands stopped. “But... Edd and Matt haven’t left yet.” He blinked up at Tord with confusion.

“It's part of your punishment, _min kjaere,”_ he explained simply, tugging down Tom’s jeans and briefs. He reached over to his nightstand, on which sat lube and...

Oh, shit.

Tord poured some lube on the egg-shaped vibrator before lifting Tom’s legs. Tom shifted, trying to watch what the hell Tord was doing.

Then, the toy slipped inside of him, causing him to let out a small gasp. Tord pinned the string to Tom’s thigh before pulling Tom’s briefs and jeans up. 

Tom kinda just layed there for a moment, trying to comprehend what the hell was happening. Of course, because of his dazed state, he didn’t realize Tord grabbed something from the box.

However, he _did_ realize when the vibrator inside of him started buzzing. He snapped upward, letting out a gasp as his face burst into flames. He whipped his head to the side and glared at Tord, eyes narrowing.

Tord perked an eyebrow and chuckled, but turned it off. Tom let out a sigh of relief, eyes closing.

“You’re an _asshole_ ,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Tord walked forward, reaching up and petting Tom’s hair. “I know.” He couldn’t help but smile at his adorableness. “But, hey, you remember the safeword, yeah?” he asked softly, massaging the boy’s scalp. 

Tom opened his eyes just a bit, head tilting. “...Brownie, right?” He blinked.

God, he was so fucking cute.

“Yep. Brownies work, too. If it gets to much, maybe ask for brownie mix or something.” Tord shrugged and gave Tom’s forehead a little kiss. “Even if this is punishment, I’ll respect the safeword, Tom.” 

Tom nodded. “You better,” he said saltily, scrunching up his nose. He stood, forcing Tord’s hand out of his hair. “Are we going out into the kitchen or what?” He gave Tord a glare.

Chuckling, Tord practically danced with joy to the door, opening it for Tom. The Brit walked out begrudgingly, arms crossed. 

They made it to the kitchen with Tord trailing behind Tom. Tom sat down on the kitchen chair, Tord settling next to him. Edd’s head was stuck in the fridge for, most likely, a cola, while Matt sat on the counter with his ankles crossed.

“So? The announcement?” Tom said after a moment of silence.

Edd, with wide eyes, popped out of the fridge with a can of cola. He had a grin on his face as he moved to the counter, placing his forearms on the table.

“Do you want to tell them, Matt, or me?” he asked, eyes shining with delight. He looked at the ginger, tapping his fingers against the cool marble.

“We’re dating!” Matt blurted out, eyes wide as he practically bounced up and down on the table. 

Tom’s eyes widened, sitting straight up but otherwise stilling.

“I saw it coming,” Tord said gruffly. “Though, would it have killed you to wait for another year?” He crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair with a huff.

“Another year? Why?” Edd asked, gaze sliding over the two boys as his eyebrows furrowed.

“Because Tord owes me twenty bucks!” Tom butted in excitedly, whipping his head around to grin at Tord. “I  _ told  _ you they’d be dating by the end of the year!” He laughed, still excited about the free money.

“Hey, it’s not  _ my  _ fault these two can’t hide anything.” Tord sniffed indignantly, pulling out his wallet from his jeans. 

“You… bet on how long it’d take us to get together?” Edd raised an eyebrow, watching as Tord handed Tom a twenty dollar bill.

Tom nodded. “Well, to be fair, you guys have always acted like you like each other.” He stuffed the bill into his sweatshirt pocket. “Not to mention, it’s only fair since Tord’s a com—“ 

The toy inside of him started vibrating, causing him to flinch. He quickly covered it with a cough, shifting uncomfortably.

“S...Sorry. He’s a communist bastard.” Tom smiled weakly, lowkey glaring at Tord. The Norse’s hand was in his pocket and a smug grin landed on his face. 

“Watch your tongue,” Tord warned, lifting his chin. Of course, that stupid, cocky grin stayed on his face. Tom did nothing but look away, huffing.

Edd glanced at the two with a raised eyebrow. Tom wasn’t one for backing down like that, let alone smiling meekly. Nonetheless, he continued. “Well, since we have finally come out, we decided to, you know… go on a date.” Edd shrugged before glancing at Matt, smiling softly.

“ _ What?”  _ Tom hissed, eyes widening as he whipped his head to glare at Edd. “How long is that going to take?” he asked, wildly looking at the three of them.

“I dunno, maybe until midnight tonight.” He glanced at the clock. “We’re still gonna get groceries, though.

“Bu— a _ a—“  _ Tom quickly hid the moan with another cough as the vibrator upped a level or two. He placed a hand over his mouth after the coughing fit. His skin felt warm as fuck and the vibrations nestled right against his prostate were really, really,  _ really  _ not helping.

“Uh… Tim, are you okay? Are you sick?” Matt furrowed his eyebrows in concern, leaning closer. He placed his forearm against Tom’s forehead, chewing his lip. “Your face is really warm. Do you have a fever?” 

“I’m sure it’ll pass by tomorrow,” Tord interrupted, covering for Tom. “I’ll take care of him. You two go on your date.” 

Tom nodded before placing his arms on the table, stuffing his face into his arms. He had to hide his flustered face and, potentially, muffle any moans from the overwhelming,  _ annoying  _ vibrating. 

Honestly? Tord’s a little  _ bitch. _

“Alright, but please don’t poison Tom and blame it on the fever,” Edd said as Matt slipped off the counter, landing on the floor with a loud noise.

“No promises,” Tord replied, watching as Edd pulled the car keys out of his pocket.

“I’ll call the police!” Edd threatened with a grin, leaving the kitchen. He missed Tord flipping him off as both him and Matt slipped into the hallway.

Tord and Tom sat in silence as they waited for the now-dating two to get out of the house, Tom still hiding his face.

Once the garage door slammed shut, Tord turned the dial on the controller as far as it could go. Tom shot up, letting out an embarrassing moan, almost falling off the chair. Luckily, Tord pressed a hand against his back before he could crack his head open.

“You’re cute,” he flirted as he turned the vibrator off. Tom mumbled something that sounded like a mix between a curse and an insult. Tord chuckled before standing, walking behind Tom as he wrapped his arms around the boy’s waist. “How are you feeling about your upcoming punishment?” He pressed a kiss against Tom’s neck. 

“I’m not excited, I’ll tell you that,” Tom said with a huff, spinning the chair around so he could face his tormentor. “Quite the opposite, really.” He tilted his head as he stared at Tord with unblinking eyes.

Tord chuckled, picking Tom up as the Brit wrapped his legs around Tord’s waist. 

Damn; seemed like boy used to be picked up often.

“Good,” he purred lowly as he carried Tom to his room. ” _I’m_ excited.” 

“Understandable, since you’re a pervert.” Tom huffed slightly as Tord placed him on the bed, the Norwegian walking over to his dresser.

Interesting. Tord’s little box was in the drawer of his nightstand.

Tord began to hum a tune as he pulled out a leash and a collar—the same one he used when Tom had been a little bitch that one time. Next, he pulled out a pair of black stockings, white lace panties (hey, Tord, what the _fuck_ ), and a black, see-through skirt. Originally, he had an excessively embarrassing crop top he had been planning to force Tom to wear, but the Brit seemed so sensitive about his body, especially his upper-half. For now, he’d let Tom wear his sweatshirt.

He turned back to Tom, grinning like an idiot as he closed the drawer with his foot. He walked back to the salty looking Brit, placing the items on the bed. “Now, don’t struggle, or you’ll just make a fool out of yourself.” His hands found Tom’s jeans before he cringed. “That… sounded really rape-y, but you get me.”

Tom immediately started laughing as Tord unbuttoned his jeans. “You fucking dweeb!” Tom giggled, lifting his legs a bit so Tord could slide them off of him without any complications. “You… are an idiot.” He laughed some more before going quiet, Tord huffing as he pulled Tom’s briefs off.

“You know, making fun of me is going to make me even angrier.” He pouted as he grabbed the panties from the pile, slipping them on Tom.

Tom rolled his eyes, lifting himself up once more so the damned thing could actually get on him. “Come on, Tord. We both know you’re too cool-headed for that.” 

“You’re right.” Tord smiled, hands sliding up Tom’s thighs. One hand pulled the panties down just a bit, the other giving Tom’s already hard cock a rather painful squeeze.

Tom let out a soft whimper, closing his legs as his cheeks reddened. Well, there goes the bantering.

“What? Did it hurt?” Tord purred as he removed his hands from Tom, going for the skirt.

“Yes, you asshole,” he hissed back as the black skirt fit onto his hips. The part that wasn’t hugging his skin was lace, allowing a perfect view of the panties underneath.   
“Well, that was the intention, so…” Tord shrugged before trailing off. Next, the Norse grabbed a stocking and pulled it up his leg.

Slowly.

“Oh, my fucking god, can you not spend a minute per stocking?” he snapped as Tord let the stocking hug Tom’s thigh.

“I’m not taking ‘a minute per stocking’, _min kattunge_ ,” Tord replied with a huff of laughter, pulling the next one up as well.

“You know, this doesn’t really seem like a punishment.” Tom tilted his head as Tord finished the next stocking. The Norse looked up with narrowed eyes.

“It will in a bit, baby. Don’t be so impatient,” Tord teased, pushing Tom flat against the bed. He wrapped the collar he had picked up a moment before placing it around Tom’s neck, clicking it together. He attached the leash to the back as well. “You look real pretty, all dressed up for me,” he purred sweetly, leaning down to kiss Tom’s neck. “You aren’t wearing makeup anymore. Guess I’ll just have to re-mark you.” With that, he sunk his teeth into the skin before sucking on it, listening to Tom’s quiet gasp.

“You  _ dick,” _  Tom snarled, tilting his head for Tord. “That shit takes, like, fifteen minutes to cover up.” He shook his head the moment Tord’s teeth left him. 

The Norwegian watched Tom for a couple of moments before sliding his hands down to the edge of Tom’s sweatshirt, his mind moving slowly with an idea. As he gently pulled it up, Tom immediately resisted.

” _ No,”  _ he said quickly, eyes widening as he shook his head rapidly.

Once again—Tom’s sore spot.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Tord soothed, pressing a kiss against Tom’s forehead. “I just want you to wear my sweatshirt for a change. It’ll be a bit big, but it’ll cover you up,” he assured, watching Tom with soft eyes and a tilted head. “Is that okay?”

Tom stayed still for a couple moments before nodding slowly. He lifted his arms up as Tord tugged the blue sweatshirt off, the Norwegian tossing it to the side. Tord’s sweatshirt was off him in an instant, finding home on Tom’s smaller body.

Hey, man. Tord stood at a mighty 6’1 (185cm), two inches taller than Matt (180cm), two inches shorter than Edd (191cm), and five inches taller than Tom (170cm).

Whoops.

“Alright, _kattunge_ , stand up,” Tord ordered, looking rather good in his black, short sleeved shirt. Those damn large hands grabbed Tom and lifted the poor boy up, stumbling over his feet before balancing.

“What now?” Tom asked saltily, tugging his hand away from Tord’s so he could cross his arms. Tord merely responded by placing his hands on Tom’s shoulders, pulling the Brit in front of him and pushing him out the door.

“Well, if you’re going to act and dress like a girl, you’re going to be treated like one. Not to mention, you might as well look the part.” Tord shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal as he shoved Tom into the bathroom.

“Wait, what? What the hell are you going to do to me?” Tom asked, struggling in Tord’s grip as the Norwegian just casually lifted him onto the bathroom counter.

Seriously, how the fuck does he do that? Tom is _heavy._

“What you’re asking for.” Tord hastily pulled one of the stockings down, humming a random tune as he turned on the sink. 

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Which is _what_ , exactly?” Tom snarled. Tord didn’t respond, rubbing the water into Tom’s leg. He opened one of the drawers, pulling out a shaving razor.

Next thing you know, Tord’s got shaving cream in his hand.

“You’re _not_ going to shave my fucking legs,” Tom snarled out, attempting to tug his leg back.

It didn’t work.

Tord gripped Tom’s ankle, causing the Brit to wince as he harshly pulled Tom closer.

“Shut up, whore.”

Tom’s face reddened as Tord began to rub the shaving cream onto Tom’s leg, other hand still holding onto the Brit’s ankle with a death grip. He placed the razor on Tom’s hairy leg, cutting away the hairs.

Okay, what the fuck. Tom was expecting some sexual shit, not—not this. Tom’s fucking male, contrary to popular belief, and shaving legs was a girl thing, not a _guy_  thing. Not to mention, what the hell was with the whole ‘act like a girl’ bullshit? Tom doesn’t act like a girl. Tom’s not fucking feminine.

This was a dick move on Tord’s part.

As the fucking asshole finished one leg, he washed the razor and got more shaving cream on his hand. Of course, Tom hurriedly interrupted him.

“Wait, Tord, what if someone, like, sees my legs?” he rushed out quickly. “They’re gonna say somethi—“

“I’m sorry, are you deaf? I told you to stay _quiet_.” Tord looked up at him with a glare. “You’ve lost your privileged use of my name. For now on ‘till the end of your punishment, you refer to me as ‘sir’. Is that understood?” Tord looked Tom straight in the eyes, refusing to move.

Damn alpha male.

“Yes, sir,” Tom mumbled out, looking away.

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all. It was so damn humiliating; his cheeks were flaming up, and he swore to Jehovah that he wasn’t a _girl_.

Tord began to work on his other leg, eyes narrowed. “You are not to speak unless spoken to or given permission. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You will not question what I say or order. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You will use the safeword if you need to, because I will only stop if you use it. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Tord licked his lips as he finished up Tom’s other leg, washing the razor and the leg before turning the water off. His hands found Tom’s waist, pulling the Brit down. “Off,” he ordered.

Tom slid off the counter, mouth opening to make a snarky comment. He quickly stopped himself, however, not really wanting to put Tord in an even worse mood.

“Now, Tom. You can either do the dishes with the vibrator on, or you could do it with the figging plug.” Tord walked out of the bathroom and toward the kitchen, Tom following close behind.

  
“What’s… what’s a figging plug?” Tom asked quietly, head tilting in confusion. 

 

Tord snorted as they arrived into a kitchen. “It’s a self-made anal plug that makes your pretty little hole burn. It’s not too bad—well, really, it depends on the person. It could be just a pleasing tingling… or it could be an unbearable burn.” Tord shrugged. “You never know.”

 

Tom looked away when Tord took a glance at him, the poor boy gripping his elbow. Tom knew he hated the vibrator, so he definitely didn’t want that. Not to mention, Tord said that it could just be a ‘pleasing tingling’. If Tom got lucky, that is.

 

Well, hey. Tom had always liked to explore.

 

“The plug, uhm, sir,” Tom mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

Tord nodded, patting the counter he stood next to. “Sit,” he ordered. Tom rushed over, Tord’s hands finding his waist and helping him on top of the counter. Next thing he knows, Tord’s got some weird ass plug in his hands, and oh, boy, that’s the vibrator slipping out of him.

 

Slowly pushing the plug inside, Tord’s eyes flickered up to Tom’s red face. The poor boy was leaning a bit to try and watch what Tord was doing.

 

How cute.

  
“Off.” Tord backed away, Tom sliding off the counter at his command.

 

Alright, so the plug wasn’t too bad. It was just some tingling--

 

Tom squeaked when Tord suddenly slapped his ass.

 

Oh, Jesus fuck.

 

That definitely wasn’t tingling anymore. His hole felt like it was on  _ fire.  _ He almost sunk to his knees, but Tord gripped his chin, forcing him to look the Norwegian straight in the eye.

 

“The dishes, Tom,” he reminded before letting the poor boy go. He took a step back, taking in Tom’s flustered state.

 

His cheeks might as well have matched the sweatshirt that draped over his overweight body, hiding the extra bit of stomach he had (Tom may not be obese, but he’s not skinny).  Folds and creases took over most of the sweatshirt, as Tom had one hand on the back of his neck and the other gripping the opposite hip. The white lace panties were just oh, so beautiful underneath the black skirt, not to mention the pretty little stockings hugging his thighs.

 

Adorable. Tord would have plenty of fun destroying his dignity.

 

Tom rushed over to the sink, hands reaching for the soap and the scrub. Tord began to hum a little tune as he approached Tom, flushing their backs together. His hands slipped under the red sweatshirt and up Tom’s skin, finding the irritated nipples and their piercings.

 

Freezing under the touch, Tom’s breath hitched. Tord pinched a nipple and tugged at the other’s piercing.

 

“Did I tell you to stop?” he growled lowly, nibbling on Tom’s ear.

 

“No, sir,” Tom squeaked out, hurriedly returning to his task. It couldn’t be easy; his hands were quivering and the dishes seemed to be shaking in his hands.

 

Tord couldn’t help but sigh at the boy, getting to work with marking him. Every bite, lick, and suck only seemed to make Tom more antsy, biting at his lip as he rushed through the dishes.

 

Soon, the dishes were all neatly placed in a pile, none left to clean. Naturally, Tord rewarded (not really) Tom with a bite into his neck, sinking his teeth in. Blood swelled up from the wound, earning a choked off gasp from the Brit as Tord licked it up.

 

Pervert.

 

“Good boy,” he purred sweetly, hands slipping underneath the red sweatshirt, digging his nails into Tom’s waist. “Tell me why I’m punishing you.” He pulled Tom closer until the boy had his chin lifted and resting on Tord’s shoulder.

 

“Because I… I took control of the situation,” he mumbled, eyes half-lidded.

 

Tord closed his eyes in irritation before quickly recovering. “Without what?”

 

“...Without your permission?”

 

“Correct.” Tord let his hands slide up and down Tom’s hips and waist, nails trailing them as a form of warning. “What else?”

 

“What… else?” Tom repeated, growing quiet. “I don’t… I don’t know,” he admitted, bracing himself.

 

Just as he expected, Tord dug his nails into Tom’s skin and dragged down, earning a pained gasp from the boy. “You never listen to me, Thomas, and it’s _getting on my nerves_.” Tord tore away from Tom, opting to grab at the sweatshirt instead. “When you’re getting fucked—”

 

Tord’s wording made Tom cringe. Like, just… a less embarrassing way to say it would’ve been nice.

 

“—you’re going to listen to me. Is that understood?” Tord began to tug Tom out of the kitchen, Tom’s movements stiff because of the stupid fucking plug that was making his hole burn fucking _hurt_ , contrary to popular belief.

 

Tom chewed his lip for a moment before mumbling, “Yes, sir.” 

“I don’t think I heard you.” 

“Yes, sir.”

“Good boy.”

Tom couldn’t help but shiver at those words (why did he have to have a _praise kink—)_ as Tord pulled him into the Norwegian’s room. 

Ugh, he hated this place.

“Get on the bed, on all fours,” Tord ordered simply, crossing his arms as he watched Tom. 

Oh, boy. 

Tom did as he was told, burning with shame. He wasn’t going to like the next event. Tord pushed on his back, forcing his chest to be pressed against the bed with his ass in the air.

_ Oh, boy. _

Tord moved behind Tom, standing on his knees as he let his hands roam under Tom’s skirt. “What’s the safeword?” he asked while giving Tom’s ass a quick squeeze.

“Brownie,” he said loud and clear. Standard procedure, making sure the sub remembered the safeword before the hard part. 

“Good.” Tord nodded, pushing up Tom’s skirt and letting it fall onto the Brit’s back. “I assume you know what’s coming?”

“Yes, sir.” Tom squirmed a bit, looking behind him so he could watch Tord.

“Count them for me, okay? If you don’t, I might, oh, I don’t know… lose count?”

_Dick_.

Before Tom could respond, Tord’s hand met his skin, the loud slap echoing through the air. Tom yelped at the sting, his hands clutching the blanket under him.

“One,” he said after he got through the initial surprise, digging his head into the bed.

Tord’s hand slid from his ass to the top of his thigh, rubbing gently before bringing his hand back. Once again, Tom yelped, overpowering the noise of skin on skin. His knuckles turned white as he let out a hiss of pain.

“Two.”

That earned him another slap, Tom’s teeth gritting as he refused to make a noise. Perhaps the worst part wasn’t even the hitting—rather, every slap made his hole hurt worse because of that _stupid fucking plug._

“Three.”

Tom couldn’t hold back the whimper of pain this time. His poor cheeks were flushed red as he clawed at the bed underneath him. 

“Four.”

Jesus Christ, Tord was a hard hitter. 

“F...fuck… five.” 

A whimper escaped his throat. He turned his head to watch Tord. The Norse panted with his hand high in the air, palm red. He had a smile on his lips, other hand gripping Tom’s hip. Then, his hand went straight back down, causing Tom to yelp out in pain. Tears pricked his eyes as Tord caught his gaze, the Norse’s smile turning into a grin.

“Six,” Tom spat with his eyes narrowed, refusing to give Tord what he wanted.

Tord sneered for a split second, slapping Tom’s ass with far more force than usual. Tom couldn’t help the cry of pain, inhaling sharply as a couple of tears slid down his cheeks.

“Seven,” he croaked out, turning his head back.

Tord narrowed his eyes. “Look at me,” he rumbled, tilting his head aside. Hesitantly, Tom did as Tord told him, cheeks flushed red as tears continued to run down them. Tord smacked him again, Tom letting out another cry. A sob clawed at his lungs, but he held it down.

“Eight.”

 

Tom pressed his cheek against the bed as Tord spanked him once more. He finally let that stupid sob of pain escape his throat, tangling his hands with the blanket. Tears streamed down his poor cheeks.

 

“N-Nine,” he choked out, whimpering.

 

Another slap. Tom sobbed once more, his legs trembling underneath him. They threatened to collapse, dragging him down just a bit. 

 

“Ten!”

 

Tord’s hands grabbed at his hips, pulling them upward. One hand released and slammed into him, a cry tearing out of his throat. Had it not been for Tord’s hand keeping him steady, he would’ve just collapsed in the bed by now.

 

“E...eleven?” he guessed, to which Tord nodded. Tom couldn’t help it; his mind kept getting fuzzier and fuzzier.

 

He earned another spank as he sobbed, clawing desperately at the sheets. Still, he refused to use the safeword. Sure, it hurt like a bitch, but he could handle it. He’s had worse.

 

“Twelve.”

 

He panted desperately, whining to try and release the lump in his throat. He froze and let out another sob as Tord hit him again, eyes squeezing shut. His backside began to feel numb, but he could feel every stupid fucking hit anyway.

“T-Thirteen,” he managed to whimper out.

Once more, Tord hit him, forcing Tom to grit his teeth. He slowly opened his eyes, watching the power hungry look on Tord’s face. 

“Fourteen,” he hissed, eyes narrowed into a glare.

Harder than usual, Tord slapped him again. This time, it hurt _so fucking bad_ that Tom’s eyes widened and he yelped, the noise quickly followed by another sob. 

“F… fifteen…” he croaked, tears streaming down his cheeks at a steady pace. Tord released Tom’s hip, watching as the poor boy all but collapsed on top of the bed. Tord climbed next to him, hand reaching for Tom’s hair. He kept massaging his scalp until he stopped crying, which took a couple minutes at most.

Once he stopped, Tord lifted Tom’s head up using his hair, earning a strangled gasp. “We’re not done yet,  _mitt lille leketøy,”_ he cooed sweetly, watching as Tom’s face scrunched up. Slowly, the boy sat up, Tord’s hand slipping away.

“Uh… what… what next, uhm, sir?”

Tord grinned, shifting so he sat down on the bed, facing the door. “On your knees, Tom. In front of me.”

Tom scowled but slid off the bed nonetheless. He had to remain what little bit of dignity he had left. He positioned himself in front of Tord, trying to ignore the pain in his backside. 

“Come on, my little spitfire. Make me feel good,” he purred sweetly, hand grabbing at Tom’s hair and pushing the boy closer to his clothed cock. Tord couldn’t deny it; Tom’s sobs and cries of pain had made him hard.

Tom sneered, but he began to palm Tord through his jeans, licking at it. Tord seemed pleased by the action, loosening his grip on Tom’s hair. He unbuttoned Tord’s jeans, pulling away so he could pull them down. He fished out Tord’s cock, tilting his head as he watched it, just soaking in all the details.

“Open your mouth, Thomas,” Tord ordered, tugging at Tom’s hair once again. “And, if you need me to stop, just tap me.”

“Yes, sir,” Tom mumbled, deciding not to dwell on the words. He opened his mouth, letting Tord lead his mouth to the large cock. He had expected Tord to take it slow, perhaps let Tom just take his whole length in after a minute.

Nope.

Tord shoved Tom’s head down, forcing a gag. Tom’s eyes widened and his hands found Tord’s thighs as he attempted to pull back, but Tord only pushed him farther. Saliva began to drip down his chin as he struggled.

” _Stop_ ,” Tord snarled. Tom immediately froze, focusing on breathing through his nose. “Now, even if I pull out, you keep your mouth open,” he ordered, taking a deep breath.

Then, he began to pull Tom’s head up and down, his other hand reaching for Tom’s neck. He pressed his fingers against Tom’s throat, grinning. His cock dug deep into Tom’s throat, groaning at the feeling of the poor boy’s saliva and the way his throat contracted as he choked. Tom dug his nails into Tord’s clothed thigh, whimpering.

“You fucking tease… do you know how much I’ve wanted to facefuck you like this all week? _Hvor mye har jeg ønsket å straffe deg?_ I knew how cute you’d look with your lips wrapped around my cock, _du jævla kuk slutten.”_

Tom had to admit, hearing Tord speak his native language was not doing favors to Tom’s already straining cock. Not to mention, tears had begun to stream down his cheeks once more.

“What a little bitch… taking my cock down your throat. You look so good, dressed like this after getting spanked like the girl you are.”

Immediately, Tom’s humiliation flared up and he tried to pull away as his cheeks burned even brighter. More saliva dripped from his chin as he gagged.

“What, embarrassed? Humiliated? _Shameful_? You should be. A man like you, acting like a little girl all the time? Embarrassing. Begging to be fucked all the time… just like a girl. Is that what you are?”

Tom tried to pull back once more, face scrunching up as he tried to shake his head. Tord’s hand kept him still, though, as he thrusted into Tom’s throat with no shame.

“Don’t deny it. No guy like you would be taking a cock down his throat like this. It just _proves_ what a little slut you are.”

Lips curling into a sneer, he scratched at Tord’s skin, but that only resulted with Tord burying his cock deeper. He gave Tom’s neck a gentle squeeze. A warning, really.

_“Jævla ludder. Du tror du kan være uhøflig når jeg har min kuk nede i halsen din? Du lille jente. Ikke vær så naiv. Jeg_ eier _deg!”_ Tord spat, suddenly pulling his cock out of Tom’s mouth.

Promptly, he came on Tom’s face, some of it landing on Tom’s tongue.

Tord had a grin on his face as he massaged Tom’s scalp, other hand moving so he could lean back on his palm. “Lick it up, Thomas. We wouldn’t want a mess now, would we?” he purred.

Tom sneered, but he lifted his hand to wipe off the come on his face. Slowly, with Tord watching him intently, he licked it off his fingers, nose scrunching up. 

“My cock, too. I know you won’t be full without that little extra.” His grin widened as Tom begrudgingly lapped at Tord’s limping cock, lips glistening with saliva and come. He pulled back, glaring up at Tord. He grabbed Tom’s underarms, pulling the trembling boy onto his lap. He quickly pulled the plug out of Tom, tossing it to the side. His hand reached for the lube (which had managed to stay on the bed after Tord put the vibrator inside of him). He gave it a single pump before moving to Tom’s hole, pushing inside with no hesitation. Immediately, Tom let out a whimper, digging his face into the crook of Tord’s neck. Tord’s other hand found Tom’s untouched cock, the poor boy moaning in pleasure.

“Sir…” he whimpered out, his voice raspy from being throatfucked, Tord’s gut churning in response.

“Moan my name, _min lille spyttebrann._ It’s okay,” he assured, trailing kisses up and down Tom’s neck. He lazily stroked Tom’s prostate, trying to milk any noises from the poor boy.

Tom let his hands slip under Tord’s shirt, nails digging into Tord’s skin as he mewled out the Norwegian’s name, panting sharply. He quickly came in Tord’s hand, letting out a long whine. Tord’s heart fluttered at the pretty noise, venting a breath through his nose. 

 

“I’ll be right back, baby,” he promised, settling Tom down onto the bed. He quickly stuffed his cock back into his jeans and buttoned them up.

 

He quickly rushed out his door and into the bathroom, sneering at the come on his hand. He turned on the sink, washing his hands. Next, he turned on the shower, sighing. He turned back and rushed to the room.

 

Tom was curled up on the bed, eyes closed and chest moving steadily. Tord’s gaze softened as he picked Tom up bridal style, the Brit opening his eyes a bit. He walked to the bathroom, rubbing circles onto Tom’s skin. He set Tom down on the counter before closing the door. He sighed.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, moving back over to Tom.

 

Tom only responded with a lazy nod, eyes half-lidded. Tord began to tug off his own clothes before turning to Tom. He worked his way up; from Tom’s stockings to his skirt, panties, and then…

 

Tom lazily swatted Tord’s hands away as he tried to take off the red sweatshirt. He scowled at Tord, glaring.

 

“Tom… please, you can’t shower in my sweatshirt.” He shook his head, but couldn’t help the smile that found home on his lips. Tom just shook his head, pushing his face into a sleeve. Tord sighed once more. “You can put it back on after we shower, okay?” he offered, watching Tom as he titled his head.

 

Begrudgingly, Tom lifted his arms so Tord could take it off of him. The sweatshirt and his ASDF shirt were tossed to the side. Tord took Tom’s hands in his own, leading him off the counter and into the shower. He didn’t bother to close the curtain, just pulled Tom close to him.

 

“What have you learned today, my little spitfire?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle. He reached for Tom’s shampoo.

 

“Not… not to take control… without your permission,” Tom said, voice scratchy and rough as Tord massaged the shampoo into Tom’s scalp.

 

“And?”

 

“When we’re having sex… I need to listen to you.”

 

Tord nodded. “Good boy,” he murmured. _“Min dyrebare leketøy. Jeg elsker ... Jeg elsker måten du handler på, min kjære faen leketøy._ ” He cringed at his mistake, cheeks pinkening, but he had to remind himself that Tom didn’t know his mother tongue. He quickly changed the subject. “Tom… I hope I didn’t shame you too much. I was only saying that stuff because—”

 

Tom cut him off with a kiss and a flick to the forehead. When he pulled away, he looked at Tord with a tilted head and soft eyes. “Just shut up already.”

  
Tord’s eyes widened for a moment, eyebrows perking before he smirked. “Alright, whatever you say, my little spit fire.”

  
  


After Tord cleaned the both of them (Tom could barely stand, let alone clean himself), he tossed Tom his sweatshirt. The boy hurriedly slipped it on, making sure it covered all of him, before Tord grabbed the rest of their clothes and picked Tom up. He brought them back to his room, setting Tom down on the bed as he went toward his dressers.

 

“Do you want something else to wear, or are you fine with just wearing my sweatshirt?” he asked as he fished out a pair of sleep pants, slipping them off.

 

“Fine,” Tom mumbled. Tord rolled his eyes but climbed in bed next to Tom nonetheless.

 

“You did good today,” he murmured into Tom’s ear, pulling the Brit closer so his back flushed against Tord’s chest. Tom merely hummed in response, eyes closing. Tord chuckled gently. “Good night, _min kjærlighet.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all,,, it's edgy a/n time!!
> 
> okay, so, i seriously apologize for not getting this out sooner. at first, i was super focused on exams, b/c i didn't really feel like failing them. that went fine, whatever, didn't really care. i passed the classes, so i started working on the chapter, blah blah blah. of course, almost exactly last month, i had a not-so-pleasant thing happen. right now, being in the EW fandom hurts, but i'll get over it.
> 
> anyway, on a different topic from teenage angst, y'all ready to hear... a rANT!?
> 
> i McFucking™ hate thicc tom. like. guys. i can fucking survive 5'2 tom (@ my idols morpheel and moho, i love u guys but c'mon) but... thicc tom is something i cannot. physically handle. like, do you know why girls have bigger hips??? bECAUSE IT'S FOR GIVING BIRTH. do u know why they're fucking curvy? gosh diddily darn hecking children. guys. please. all these body types your giving these 'thicc' male characters are just. over done. like feel free to give them a big ass b/c thats a thing that happens but just... everything else... no thanks  
> (also, a lot of thicc character fanart gives them tits. its uncomfortable tbh).
> 
> anyway, yeah, i had to yell at that. 
> 
> bUT HAPPY NEWS!!!
> 
> I got into an auditioned choir at my school uwu
> 
> oh one more thing!!!
> 
> I'm really sorry i keep adding bj's to my stories??? i prefer it over regular sex, and sometimes i forget that other people don't think like that (being ace is fun. I hate sex but i write smut all the time. it's great).


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